Halfbreed : Trunks
by Beji
Summary: Upon reaching adulthood Gohan loses control of himself and kills the one he loves most, and in return is killed by a loved one. Could his unique genetic makeup be the cause? AN: Don't let this one scare you away! it's reallly not as bad as it sounds...
1. HB1

Halfbreed

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It doesn't seem like it's been nine years already, but it has. Eight and a half since Videl began wearing scarves and heavy makeup, dark sunglasses even at night, brushing off questions and vehemently refusing when someone would mention abuse. But the tears were in her eyes and the pain was in her words when she spoke, and even at such a young age, I understood.

And then she was gone. Dead, with Gohan laughing over her corpse, and then giving way to heart-wrenching sobs, weeping his apologies into her broken form.

Nine years since he attacked Chi-Chi. Nine years since he was killed by his own father. Nine years since Goku had lost the innocence that had forever brightened his eyes.

And no one could figure out why he snapped. Why Gohan, just reaching the adult stage of his life, had lost himself. To what, we can only wonder.

Someone mentioned genetics, and my life has not been the same. After all, Gohan was the first Human-Saiyan crossbreed that we knew of. I pray every night that Gohan's problem was not his genetic makeup, that he simply lost a few screws. And yet, every day my mother finds more evidence against that odd pedigree. Every day, she finds more evidence that the two species most base personality traits conflict fatally. Every day her findings condemn us, and there is no cure for yourself.

So now, at age 17, their eyes are on me, and I can feel the tension from everyone who comes near me. Goten has my same fears, and he watches to see if he will suffer Gohan's fate. If _I_ will suffer Gohan's fate.

I can't even bear to look at Bra. I can't fail her. How could she live her life, knowing that she will turn into a psycopath at age 18? It has been hard enough on me, these nine years, and I would not subject her to such a burden.

I can't fail her.

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	2. HB2

Halfbreed

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"So you wanna go see a movie or something on Thursday? I'm not making a big deal over my birthday, just hang out with you, if you're up for it." Goten sounded troubled as he replied to his friends query, uncertainty lingering at the edges of his answer.

"I don't know Trunks, shouldn't you be with your family then?"

"What're you nuts? I spend every waking moment with them. I need a little time off…" the older boy's voice trailed off, his tone hinting at the heavy depression that he'd endured as of late.

"Well sure, that'd be fine. Anything in particular you want to see?" He asked hesitantly.

"Dammit Goten, I'm not going to go crazy the moment I turn eighteen, ok? Hopefully, I won't go crazy at all! So just bear with me, and don't treat me all different. Nothing's changed."

"You think that I'm exempt from everything you're feeling? And I certainly don't pity you, I feel more of a kinship with you…I mean, we're in the same boat here, you're just a year closer is all. Again I ask, since it is your birthday, and you should choose, what movie do you want to see?"

Trunks sighed heavily, massaging away a headache with fingers on the bridge of his nose. They continued discussing prospective films for a few minutes, and hung up.

He had to disagree with his friend, they weren't in the same boat, not at all. His mother had been in a perpetual state of sorrow, depression, and guilt, the mere sight of her son darkening her features. His father seemed to share her sentiments, though on a more…repressed level. He urged Trunks to meditate often, hoping that mental clarity would help his possible condition. It only succeeded in aggravating the demi-saiyan's fears, allowing him to sink lower into the depths of his mind…places he did not wish to go anymore. Not to mention that everyone's focus was on him. Everything hung on his shoulders, not only his own fate, but Goten's and Bra's as well.

And the pain that his own death would bring his parent's…the pain that Bra's death would eventually bring, it was unbearable. Unbearable to think that he had caused their pain, condemned them to a life of sorrow. He scoffed at such self-centered thoughts. Whoever said that they wouldn't move on eventually? He selfishly hoped they didn't move on too quickly.

Laying back on the bed, Trunks rolled onto his side, wincing when his bruised upper arm became mashed against the mattress. His mother's constant experiments had left a permanent bruise where so many needles had assaulted his flesh. A reminder, he concluded…

Within the past few weeks he had resolved to spend as much time with Bra as possible. Which is to say that he didn't protest when she entered the room and clambered up onto the bed beside him. He closed his eyes, waiting to see what she wanted. Trunks grunted softly when she sat heavily on his stomach, the five year old curling up on him and wrapping small arms around his broad chest. He put one hand behind his head and the other gently on her back, rubbing soft circles.

"What's up, Bra-chan?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to cheer you up Niichan. You always look sad." Her face contorted sorrowfully, and she hugged him quickly, squirming. He grimaced in response, trying to force the expression into a smile, and felt no small fear when he wasn't able to conjure up a simple grin.

He didn't reply, not knowing what to tell the child. Their parents had agreed long ago not to tell Bra about her proposed fate, at least until a later age. Sometime soon, most likely. Though it was not something that such a small child should have to deal with. That anyone should have to deal with, Trunks decided.

"Thank you, B-chan."

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	3. HB3

Halfbreed

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It's a little scary really, I'll admit to being afraid of my future. But the realization that I can no longer smile was a shock to the senses, and even though the movie we saw had some humor in it, and I laughed, there was no grin. No happy twinkle in the eye. Just a blank, odd sounding laugh. It sounds so foreign to laugh now, it isn't a common sound in my house…not anymore.

My parent's are being torn apart by guilt, both taking the blame for something neither have any responsibility for. You see, Bra was born nearly three years after Gohan died, and I can see that they wonder everyday if it was a good thing. Most likely it wasn't, but it's too late to change it now, and they really shouldn't worry about it. There's enough on their plate already. Or so I tell them, but they've become deaf to any words of comfort I might have. I try to comfort them whenever I can, but sometimes, just sometimes, I'd like a little reassurance myself. A few 'it'll be okay's would go a long way, even though I know it won't be. There's just something about empty comforting words that soothes the soul…but it is a pleasure that I do not know.

Seclusion is more and more my way of life, and I hate it. I love being around people, a 'social butterfly' as some would say, but society no longer enjoys my presence. Goten is just nervous around me, and his family decidedly uncomfortable. I've been banned from Krillin's house…and my parents are too deep in self-pity to really notice my need for company. Bra is my saving grace in that area, and I'm spending more time around her than anyone else. Our parents seem to avoid her too…she doesn't understand why everyone is so melancholy. And now, she barely notices it. She doesn't remember being around happy people, and I hardly recall being one.

Whatever happened to helping a dying person enjoy the last months or years of their life? Everyone is so fucking convinced I'm gonna lose it, maybe they should try a little harder to enjoy what time they have with me. Is it so hard to get over your own guilt in a matter where no guilt can be laid and just be with me?

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I sigh and lay my head down on the keyboard, the computer bleeping at me from the overload of commands I'm sending. I'm just too worn out to care. I've never been under as much stress as these past few years, and I don't look nearly as young as I am. My marriage is falling apart, one kid might possibly go insane at any moment, and the other is totally oblivious to everything, her sweet optimistic demeanor left untainted by the storm of unhappiness that is our household.

There is nothing that I can do for Trunks, I know that now. But to stop trying seems so wrong, like I'm just leaving him to his fate when there's a possibility…but there isn't. Oh no…

"Moooom!" Bra runs over to hop into my lap, and I try to force a smile to compliment her perky demeanor. She seems to notice my attempt, and clutches my head between her hands, looking deep into my eyes to make sure she has my attention. "Daddy says he wants to talk to you." I nod, and she releases me. The face-grabbing thing, an odd habit she picked up from who knows where, and she only does it when she's saying something important.

"Alright, I'll be there in a minute." She runs from the room, and I call her back before she reaches the door. Sheepishly I add, "Where _is_ he?" She replies quickly, and mentions that she's going to go play with her brother. I sigh again as I exit the lab, she really ought to leave Trunks alone. He doesn't seem to want any interaction, and she's always hanging around him. I'm afraid that he might finally get frustrated with her and do something.

For once not in his training room, Vegeta is sitting quietly outside on the back porch, perched precariously on the railing. I lean against the wood beside him, and decide to speak first when he remains silent.

"You rang?" He nods, turning to look into my eyes. So much sadness is reflected in the black depths that I can't help the tightening in my throat. I take his hand into my own and will him to continue. His voice is so soft that I have to lean closer to hear.

"We're losing him, you know. Whether it's the thing with Gohan or not, we're losing him. We avoid him, and now he's so far…A different person than the Trunks we knew. A depressed one." I only nod, squeezing his hand as the lump in my throat grows larger. I've noticed the same things though I had hoped it was my imagination. I'm suddenly weak, and lean on his shoulder, burying my face into his warm flesh. He deftly hops down and encloses me in his embrace, a feeling I've not felt in months, a good feeling. I sniffle back tears as his hand rubs my back gently.

"Vegeta, I don't want to lose you." He pulls away slightly to look at me in confusion. "We're drifting, just like we're drifting away from the kids. No one in our family is intimate anymore…and I couldn't stand losing you. Not on top of losing them," his eyes betray alarm.

"But I thought you could--" he stammers, and I still his speech with a hand on his mouth. I shake my head, releasing tears I had thought long used up into his shirt. He settles his head on my shoulder, and his hand resumes rubbing my back soothingly. My tears soon dry though, as an odd sense of peace and almost, _almost_ happiness pervades me. I haven't had any physical contact with Vegeta in the last…oh, six months? I didn't realize how much I really missed him…

How much I need him, as I'm sure he needs me, especially in these hard times. It's so hard to watch your life slowly fall apart, and that that falling should start with your firstborn…Trunks means everything to me, I don't know if I could stand to lose him.

That's it. I can't let him slip away. I'll find some way to coax him back into the world, maybe keep his father or Goku with him at all times as he re-enters society…someone stronger than he, in case…God, I can hardly bear to think it.

How did this happen to us? Did we do something, cross the powers that be in some way, or did he just not know that this would come of our bearing children…but then, if he had told Goku and Chi-Chi, even before Gohan, could they have lived waiting for it? Knowing that they couldn't have grandchildren, that no one would carry on their tradition, their blood? But God, was it better this way? Now is not the time for such thoughts, as once again, there is just nothing I can do about it. I feel so helpless, a feeling I've never enjoyed. I think Vegeta feels that same loss of control, and likes it even less.

But what will it do to Vegeta, if faced with Goku's morbid, unavoidable task? What will he be like after killing his own son, and eventually, his own daughter? My arms inadvertently tighten around him, my face burying deeper into his neck.

I hope he doesn't change, although I know he will, maybe not too much? It's too much to ask…but after Bra, when we're unnatural empty-nester's, I intend to live, find a reason, maybe find a way to safely produce children. It sounds so selfish and uncaring now. But I'll need Vegeta with me. With or without children, I think I've always needed Vegeta.

"'Geta?" I whisper, using a nickname I've not used in a long time. He kisses my shoulder, a silent acknowledgement. "We should go now…spend time with our son...and daughter." His voice is rough with unshed tears so he replies with a simple grunt.

Pullng away from me, I don't completely let go of him, and continue to hold his hand in mine, fingers interlaced, while we walk into the house.

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	4. HB4

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Last night was enjoyable, and a step in the right direction, if not exactly what I wanted, or what I need. We played a family game at my mother's urging, and I enjoyed it for Bra's sake. She was trying so hard to make up on lost childhood by being cute and ignorant, although she still beat everyone at the game, which frazzled Dad a bit. His childish reaction to losing was easy to see through, and the hint of amusement was there, I could feel my heart melt when Bra giggled happily, a beautiful but rare sound.

Oh Bra, why couldn't we have made your childhood happy? Something so small, something you deserved so much, and I'm almost sure that your teenage years won't be carefree. Mine certainly haven't been, and my childhood was lacking in its own way, perhaps this is just what life is…

Our family game could have been so much more, but unfortunately, no new bridges were formed. Some were revamped, like the relationship between my parents. The feeling between them tonight was different, closer, like it used to be. Bra and I sat together across from my parents, but very little conversation passed over the table. What little there was was directed at Bra, and even while their continued ignorance of me broke my heart, their attention to my sister brought joy. The heaviness greatly outweighs the lighter emotions though, and I'm left with the same unhappiness. God what I wouldn't give…

Lying on the bed with only a candle to light my room, I can hear my parents making love down the hall. While the knowledge of what they're doing still disgusts me a bit, I must admit that I'd prefer to hear that over screaming insults and anger that leaves my mother crying. It has been rare that my father ever brought Mom to tears, but when it did happen, he was always careful to amend the situation before it got out of hand. And hearing that they still _make_ love means they are still _in_ love, even if they don't love me anymore…

Trading the candle for an electric nightlight—I hate the dark—I roll over and attempt to sleep.

+\+\

I let consciousness take me slowly, relishing the feeling of waking in my husbands arms, a feeling I've not felt in far too long. My mind retraces my steps throughout last night's events, taking my thoughts out of bed and back to the board game we played with the kids. It went well considering the outcome with Bra; I hadn't realized how much I missed playing with her. But the sheer tension emanating from Trunks kept us from really speaking with him, as he almost seemed to be in a bad mood. He's been in this melancholy funk lately, and it's quite hard to approach him, since I'm not very sure how he'll react. It brings back memories of Vegeta's early days in my house, when it was hard to go and speak with him; he was so mercurial.

His uneven breathing tells me that Vegeta is also awake, and I open my eyes to find his still closed. Moving one arm from around his neck I stroke his cheek, and ebony eyes stare deeply into my blue, naked emotion dancing in their depths. I can see so much love there, something I once thought I would never see, and now, although more common, it still stirs a deep love for him in return.

I kiss his chin, and plant a soft kiss on his lips, and he responds in kind. His hand traces large circles on the small of my back, and I whimper at the soft caress. Pulling away slightly for air, I sigh contentedly and lace my fingers through the hair at the back of his head whilst leaning my forehead against his.

"We still didn't do it," I tell him in a hushed voice, not wanting to disturb the serenity of the moment. He looks at me quizzically, willing me to continue. "Last night, we wanted to mend things, get to know Trunks again. We barely even spoke to him." I shake my head sadly, and pull away a little to lay my head next to his on the pillow, though our faces are still very close. "I'll try again today, maybe you could train with him? And we really need to do more with Bra. She's being neglected horribly…they both are." He nodded mutely, leaning in to place another kiss on my lips. A tear slides silently down my cheek as the bittersweetness of the moment hits me full force; our children are slipping through our fingers even while we are repairing our run-down relationship. It's so wonderful to be with Vegeta again, but losing Trunks and Bra, whether they're going to die prematurely or not is more than enough to take away the luster of being with my love.

When the kiss ends he brushes the drop of saline off my cheek with a thumb, and kisses the now damp spot. Unconsciously I lean my face into the tender placement of his soft lips. I think back on the previous night again, on the sheer sweetness of it. I have never experienced Vegeta making such tender love to me, his every touch gentle; I was his only concern as he slowly and lovingly pleasured me. And while I do enjoy our more passionate sessions, last night was a very satisfying experience, especially when we are only now putting ourselves back together. It was a healing time, and it will in all likelihood occur again tonight. Or at least, I hope it does.

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	5. HB5

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I've got to. Today I have to talk to him. I stumble out of bed and into the shower, relaxing back against Vegeta when he joins me. I let him know of my intentions for the day as he massages my back. Smiling softly, I close my eyes and focus on the motions of his hands. "That's…nice," I murmur. Turning me slowly around, he pulls me into a soft embrace, causing me to sigh in pleasure.

"I love you," I whisper in his ear, placing my lips on his neck. He stays silent, only moving to kiss me passionately on the lips. I remember moaning into his mouth before we got out, dried each other off, and got dressed.

"Pancakes for breakfast?" At his response in the affirmative I traipsed downstairs to start on the morning meal. Vegeta followed after a few minutes, and within a half hour I was finished.

"'Geta? Could you get Trunks and Bra down here for breakfast?"

"Sure."

Minutes later we're all seated in silence around the table. Trunks is staring at nothing but his plate, whilst Bra natters on about nothing in particular. Vegeta and I cast furtive glances bck and forth, trying to figure something out. I motion for Vegeta to take Bra and leave. He does so, with only slight hesitation. Now alone, I turn my gaze back to Trunks…

…And struggle to hold back tears when he looks at me, for all the world looking like a caged animal. He makes brief eye contact, distrust filling those beautiful blue eyes. "Trunks, what's wrong?" He continues to stare at me, his eyes focusing and unfocusing as his gaze bores into my eyes.

"I think you know the answer to that," he finally answered, his voice barely audible.

"I know…I know _that_, but this, there's something else here. This is more than just you not wanting _that_ to happen to you."

"It's nothing, I''ll work it out myself."

"Why won't you let me talk to you? No matter how…_unhappy _you are, you always need someone to talk to. Please, son, talk to me."

"I can't…It's hard to talk about the problem _to_ the problem, you know?" I blink at him in confusion.

"Trunks if you have a problem with something about me, anything, you need to tell me, and maybe I can fix it."

"If I wanted to talk to someone, it would have to be to someone who _cares_, like…Bra. And I don't think she really needs to hear a lot of what I'd like to say."

"You think I don't care about you? You know I love you more than anything Trunks, please don't talk like that."

"It's okay, you don't have to lie to me, I've accepted it now, so please, just don't pretend that you love me, we both know it isn't true. And it only makes it worse when you say stuff like that." I shake my head in disbelief, the tears I had tried so hard to quell now coursing down my face. My baby, my Trunks…what happened to him? How could I not have seen this?

"God, Trunks, how can you think that?" I walk over to his side of the table and sit beside him. I place a hand on the sid eof his face, and ever so slightly, he pulls away, but not enough to break contact. "I love you, Trunks. I love you so so much, don't you ever think otherwise, got it?" he looks so hopeful, like he wants to believe me, but he just isn't sure. I can see the emotions whirling in his eyes, and he struggles to stay in control. I wrap my arms around him and pull his head down onto my shoulder, feeling him shudder with the harsh release of pent-up hurt. I lose track of the time that passes as he cries into my shoulder; he hasn't cried in so long, at least as far as I know. I shed my own tears for my baby, my little Trunks. After an hour, I realize that he's leaning more heavily on me, and his crying has stopped. He's probably asleep.

"Trunks-chan," I croon, combing his hair with my fingers. He wakes slowly, pulling away enough to kiss my cheek. "I love you too, Mom." I smile at him and rub his cheek with my fingers to dry them. His eyes smile at me, though it never touches his mouth.

"You have dinner choice for tonight."

"Okay."

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	6. HB6

+\+\

It looks like things are moving towards the better, and my talk with Trunks relieved so much guilt. Not to mention that it makes me happy to see him happi_er_ than he's been in so long. It's as if a great burden was lifted from his shoulders, and the spring is back in his step. He isn't quite as introverted, a good sign. I need to discuss with Vegeta our need to tell Bra the truth…everything…starting with Gohan, whom she never even met.

It still tears me apart when I remember that little Gohan is gone…that sweet, innocent child that I remember so well. But worse by far are the occasions since Gohan's death when I've talked to Goku.

That same sweet innocence that Gohan possessed was embodied to a fuller degree in his father, and Goku's personality just wasn't prepared to handle the death of his own son. It's like he lives in an almost perpetual state of shock. He'll fall into deep depressions, where he thinks constantly of Gohan, until he falls apart, a scene I've been witness to on more than one occasion. It breaks my heart to look into those dark eyes and see that carefree expression replaced by pain, guilt, an overall sadness that doesn't ever leave, even when he smiles or tries to laugh.

Goten, experiencing some of the same introvertedness that Trunks is, has withdrawn himself from his friend, probably when they need each other the most. I can only hope that they revive their relationship soon.

After our conversation Trunks tramped off to some unknown region of the house, and I set about searching for my husband and daughter.

I found them easily enough. Bra was asleep in Vegeta's arms, and he slept also, propped up against the wooden headboard of her bed. His eyes opened when I stopped in the doorway, and a soft smile lit my face.

_All is not well_, I informed him mentally, _but things are better. _He nods, setting Bra to the side, careful not to wake her. Padding on silent feet to stand before me, he cups my cheek with one hand, laying a gentle kiss on my forehead. Placing my arms around his waist, I lean my full weight against him, and he rubs my back as he returns the embrace.

"He thought," and I take a deep breath, pushing down the sob rising in my throat. "He thought that we didn't love him, that we no longer cared. I made sure he knew that he assumed wrong. He seems…lighter now, I guess the thought of us not loving him weighed very heavily on him. I can't blame him, it would weigh on me also." Vegeta rested his head on my shoulder, breathing deeply.

"We should approach him, talk to him, even when he seems to want to be alone. Make an effort." His voice was quiet, almost a moan, and it reverberated through my mind. I glanced over his shoulder at Bra, ensuring that she was still asleep. Her cheeks were tear-stained, something I had not noticed upon first entering the room. My breath caught in my throat, and Vegeta lifted his head to look me in the face. What had happened?

"I told her," Vegeta whispered, and I know my heart stopped. "She already suspected so much, yet she new so little. She had a right to know why her family was so sad always. _Always_," he groaned, and I pulled his head down to my shoulder, our roles reversed as I tried to comfort him. "She cried for Trunks mostly, she knows him better than anyone. She finally understood his pain, why he's always so sad." I sucked in a breath, trying to keep my voice steady through the tears coursing slowly down my cheeks.

"Now he has a companion, someone to share his suffering. Goten wasn't prepared to be that for him, and have Trunks return that companionship. At least now, he won't be alone." He heaved in a shuddering breath, his eyes screwed tightly shut. I had always thought that giving him my love and affection would help ease his mind and show him that life wasn't always pain and suffering. But I couldn't even give him that much, and from our love has come our children, the children that started out giving us so much joy, and now I fear only the pain survives.

+\+\

He felt that so little time had passed since Bulma had announced her first pregnancy to him. Her blue eyes flashing with pride, her entire body emanating a look that dared him to turn the child away. But to her pleased surprise, he was excited by the thought, eager to have a child to train, to teach him all the secrets of his heritage, to be able to ensure that the Saiyan did not die out completely, thinned though the blood was.

He had never expected to feel such a deep love for the child and an almost overwhelmng need to protect that overrode all sense. He silently cherished the idea of another being loving him, a love so loyal…

He felt an even deeper love for Trunks today as he proved his loyalty again; loving them even though he felt utterly unloved. Bulma and his children were the greatest gifts ever bestowed upon him, and he was determined to let them know it. Soon.

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	7. HB7

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They do love me, they do love me, I've never felt such relief, and I curse my inability to smile at my mom when she reassured me. I hope that she doesn't mind, surely she understands.

_But not even I understand._

Shrugging uncomfortably I settle back into my favorite reading chair, nestled easily into the corner of my bedroom. My small bedroom. I've found in the past few years that I like the cozy, more secure environment that tight living quarters provide.

Dinner would be nice about now, I decide as I pick up the headphones to my cd player and place them in my ears. What's My Age Again? begins playing, and I unconsciously lay my head back, eyes closed. What would it be like to be 23? Nobody likes you when you're 17 either.

I wonder what Bra's doing. I haven't seen her all afternoon, and I had promised to take her to the beach today. So much for that plan. Tomorrow perhaps, not like I have anything else to do.

Reluctantly I laid down the earphones and sought out my sister. Her ki leads me straight to her bedroom, where she's napping on her bed. However her sleep is light and she stirs awake seconds after I enter the room. Now sitting on the edge of the bed, I stroke fine hair back from her warm forehead. "Bra-chan," I murmur, and she dazedly smiles up at me. As consciousness invades more fully, her smile fades, even turning to a frown. It is then that I realize she's changed, there's a maturity to her eyes, something that speaks of knowledge.

Her frown contorts as a tear escapes her eyelashes, making its way down her already tear-stained cheeks. Why is she crying? A quivering, sobbing form is thrust into my arms, her small arms wrapping tightly around my chest. "Trunks," is the only word she manages to utter. My mind races for an answer to her actions…

_They told her._

The inevitability of the situation quashes my anger; she had to know eventually. _Deserved_ to know. She deserved to _know_ her fate, but she certainly didn't deserve the fate itself. I wonder for a moment at the unfairness of life. But then, is it really fair to anyone? Probably not.

"Hey, B …Bra, look at me," I gently stroke her head as her crying slows to a sniffle, glistening blue eyes looking into my own.

"I'm scared," she admits, her voice straining at the edge of hearing. "I'm scared and I don't want…don't want to…"

"To die?" I finish.

"No, of course not but, but I don't want you to die, and then me to die, and then Mom and Daddy will be left alone. I don't want them to be sad." I blinked at her sadly, pulling her up into my arms to cradle her.

"I don't want them to be sad either Bra, but don't worry about things you have no control over. Have your fun, live your life, don't think of what's ahead. If there's something you really want to do, then just do it. Okay?" She sniffled again, and I handed her a tissue as she nodded.

"That's my girl."

"You know what I really want?"

"Huh?" She clutched my head in her small hands, unconsciously mimicking the gesture Dad used to teach me a difficult technique. Has something to do with telepathy.

"Food."

I can't help a chuckle as she crawls around to my back, and I carry her downstairs wishing that they could see the smile in my mind.

+\+\

I have to struggle to hold in laughter as Vegeta makes another smart-assed comment about tomorrow night's dinner arrangements. He'll get over it.

The family has been timidly invited to the Sons, as we do every month. Well, every other month. On the off months they come over here. The company is a little strained, but overall we have a good time, usually. Of course, it was only a few months ago when Goku had one of his breakdowns, it was most likely the hardest thing I've ever had to witness. But then, his moment's are getting fewer and farther between, I can only pray that after all this time, hes finally moving on. I can only pray, which doesn't seem to be helping my son's situation any, or my daughter's, for that matter. Shrugging uncomfortably, I put the heavy subject from my mind even as Vegeta's arms curl around my waist, his body pressed to my back as I continue stirring dinner on the stove.

"I'm okay," I answer to his unvoiced but obvious question. He buries his face in my shoulder and nuzzles my neck, and I briefly turn my head to lay a kiss on his temple.

"I won't be okay, forced into the same house with that witch, at least she can cook," he grumbles into my ear, renewing the smile on my face. Ah, Chi-Chi's cooking abilities, apparently her _only_ redeeming quality. It seems that way sometimes…but not usually, not lately. She still tends to snap at people (Vegeta especially), but when you think of her situation, forced into being the emotionally stable one in her family, not to mention caring for her husband, you give her a little more leeway in her behavior. Ah well, no one's perfect.

Vegeta has since moved on from nuzzling to kissing, and I'm not objecting.

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	8. HB8

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"Kids! Dinner!" A resounding thumping and rustling was heard about the house as the three demi-saiyan trudged downstairs towards food. Finding their seats at the table, the meal quickly commenced in silence. The only sound to be heard was the scratch of utensils against dinnerware as the Son family cast occasional uneasy glances at Trunks. Goten seemed to just be making sure his friend was okay, while his parents looks were wary.

Trunks unconsciously glared at his plate as he ate, arousing Goku and Chi-Chi's fears even more. Bulma looked worriedly at her son, and grasped her husbands hand beneath the table. Vegeta watched silently as the eldest demi-saiyan ate with a shaking hand, his eyes burning a hole through his plate, feeling the eyes of almost all present fixed on him.

Vegeta laid a gentle hand on Trunks shoulder and murmured a quiet, "Settle down, Trunks," to him. Hissing an intake of breath he draw back from his fathers hand, upsetting the chair and falling backwards in an effort to move away. He stood quickly and backed up to the wall, now panting softly as he looked warily over those seated at the table. If Bra wasn't paying him much attenton before, she certainly was now. Silence hung thick in the air.

He edged sideways toward the door and slipped outside. Bulma started to stand but Vegeta pushed her down with one hand, instead following Trunks outside himself. Finding him was easy enough, as he hadn't gone farther than a large tree at the edge of the clearing. He sat with his back to the trunk of the massive oak, his knees pulled up to his chest and head resting on his arms. Vegeta approached and sat down before Trunks acknowledged him with an aloof glance. Vegeta's resting energy level was a little high, he was quite unhappy about the Son's treatment of his child. He knew that this wasn't any onset of madness…merely frustration at being taken for a different person than he used to be, when in reality he was only more lonely and sad than before.

He couldn't think of anything to say that could possibly amend the situation, and so he hesitantly laid an arm around Trunks shoulder. The younger man stiffened, but relaxed quickly and leaned against the elder's chest, burying his face into the welcome warmth. Only now did Vegeta notice that Trunks was shaking uncontrollably, one hand spasmodically clenching and unclenching as he fought back tears once again.

Vegeta looked up as Bulma entered his peripheral vision and and knelt on the other side of Trunks and began gently rubbing his back. She whispered quiet comforting words to their son and watched as his quivering slowed and his breathing calmed, interrupted occasionally by a sniffle. Pushing fine strands of lavender hair from the teen's heated forehead, Vegeta closed his eyes and laid his cheek on top of Trunks' head.

Bulma couldn't help the smile that lit her face, and her brain set to memorizing the scene before her even as Trunks was recording the feeling of security and love he felt within his father's embrace. Bra joined them momentarily and curled up on her mother's lap, her eyes carefully taking in the view before her.

Mind fuzzy with warm emotions, Trunks fell into a light slumber within his father's embrace.

+\+\


	9. HB9

+\+\

Trunks awoke with a start when a car door outside slammed, and his sleep-fuzzied brain took its time to clear. How had he reached his room? He suddenly felt like a child again; Vegeta must have carried him here. He touched fingers to his mouth as he attempted a smile, and felt only a quivering of his lips. His unusual good mood from the days events could not be quelled, however, and he rose from his mattress and padded softly to the door.

The door bell rang through the house, and he sensed his mother answering the door. Joyous laughing and boisterous banter ensued between Bulma and the female guest. Her pitifully tiny energy reading was familiar to him, it couldn't be…

Giving himself a once over in the mirror, he strode downstairs, reaching the front hallway just as his mother turned to go and wake him.

"Oh, you're up!" She said with a soft smile. "See who's here…" Moving out of his way, and on down the corridor, Bulma whistled quietly to herself. Puzzled by his mother's actions, Trunks stepped almost timidly into the room, only to receive a hurtling bear hug from the guest. She bore him to the ground, then sat up on his stomach, her wide smile grinning down at him.

"Trunks! Oh, I missed you so much!" The blonde hair, now streaked with blue, and soft artificially-lavender eyes came back to him in a rush.

"K-Kessho? Wow, has it been four years already? Why didn't you tell me you were coming back into town? Living in Texas made you beautiful..." Her smile turned shy, and a faint blush crept into her cheeks.

"Trunks Brief, you sound just like your mother," she reprimanded, though her eyes still danced merrily.

"Well if two people told you then it must be true. Lemme up before I wet myself, you're sitting _right_ on my bladder." Kessho made a face, but still stood up, and reached down a hand to pull Trunks to his feet also.

"You wanna go somewhere tonight? Catch up on old times?" his face was pitifully hopeful.

She smiled, "Sure." She almost lost herself in his soft blue sadly smiling eyes. His eyes were different than she remembered…that sadness was not there before…only love for life and vibrance. What changed? What made him change? He had not smiled even once since he walked through that doorway, though he seemed excited, judging by his body language and words. Well, a puzzle for later.

Breaking out of her daze, she realized that he had gone off to tell his mother of their departure. She leaned against the wall and crossed her ankles, closing her eyes in thought. Within minutes they were in his car, engine revving. Trunks, in the driver's seat, turned to back up the vehicle, putting his arm around her shoulders stealthily instead of the headrest on her seat. She reached up a hand to hold his, thumb softly caressing his palm. They sped away from Capsule Corp, and as soon as the tan domed complex was beyond sight, he turned down a forested gravel back road. He turned the key, and the engine stopped.

They turned to stare at one another, and Kessho moved into the middle seat. Reaching a hand to her face, he softly brushed her cheek, and she unconsciously leaned into the caress, turning her face to kiss his fingertips.

"I missed you too, Kessho-chan," he breathed, and for a moment, she looked hurt, his face twisted into puzzlement in response.

"You haven't visited in a year, you know, you know that we can't afford to fly me home to see you. I was starting to wonder…" she stared hard at his chin, no longer able to meet his eyes.

He tilted her face up till her eyes met his again. "I love you," he spoke softly, "I'm sorry I haven't been to see you, things have been really hard for my family the last year or so. I wish I could explain." Her eyes hardened.

"Why can't you? You've never kept anything from me before…" His expression turned guilty. She moved back to the passenger seat, obviously hurt.

"I've trusted you, Trunks. With, with _everything_! You know all my deep dark little secrets…everything. I thought our relationship was built on a little trust. Hell, I thought it was built on alot of trust! But I guess I was the only trusting one in this relationship…" He clamped a hand firmly down over her mouth to end her tirade. She glared icily at him in return.

"I'm not all human," He began, and her eyes widened. "I was the second of my particular hybrid to be born. Goten is the third, and my sister the fourth, and final. My father is from a planet called Vejiita-sei, where he was the prince. I'm half human, half saiyan. That isn't everything you need to know, but it'll do until that much can sink in." He took his hand from her mouth, and waited anxiously for her response. Her eyes were _very_ wide, and her mouth worked silently.

"You're a…a…a what?" She managed at last. He turned his back to her and pulled his shirt up a bit, and his pants down a tad, displaying a round brown scar. "Saiyan," he supplied, then pointed to the scar, "this is where my tail used to be, before they removed it. I was very little…I don't remember having it at all." She warily reached out a hand, and brushed the spot with her fingertips, the feeling soft as a feather. He closed his eyes and heaved in a deep breath, the tiny touch still managing to blow him away. He regretfully turned to sit back in his seat the right way, and faced the still-shocked female. She finally seemed to gain some of her composure.

"I always knew that you weren't normal, and mysterious to say the least. But I never suspected that you weren't, that you weren't even from this planet. You said there was more? Might as well get it all out now." Trunks looked uncomfortable all of a sudden, and stared miserably down at his lap.

"I'd rather not tell you about that, although I know I should." He murmured, only half to himself. Brow creasing in worry, she crawled across the seat to him and settled one knee on either side of his hips, comfortably straddling his lap. She took his head in her hands and his eyes rose to meet hers.

"Hey," Kessho spoke softly, soothingly. "There's nothing to be afraid of. You're a freaking alien and I still love you!" She grinned at him, her smile dying after a moment when his expression remained dark.

"Do you remember when Gohan and Videl died, way back?" She nodded once, and he continued. "They lied to the press, to everyone. Videl wasn't killed in a car accident, and Gohan didn't commit suicide soon thereafter…He killed her." He didn't stop at her horrified expression. "A few months before it happened, we noticed Videl trying hard to cover up bruises, cuts, all kinds of things. I remember once, when someone very gently asked if Gohan had, had _abused_ her. She got so defensive, only a rock wouldn't have known that we had hit the nail on the head. No one really knows what happened between them in those last months, whatever went on happened in private.

"One day, Chi-Chi heard shouting in the next room, where they were. There was a short struggle, but by the time she got there, it was over. Videl was on the floor, she never moved. Gohan was standing beside her, laughing hysterically as he looked at her body. It only lasted for about ten seconds before he came back to his senses and saw what he had done, but it was too late, everything was too late. He broke down, and held her body for more than an hour, sobbing non-stop.

"The very next day he got into an argument with his mother, and made an attempt on her life. He only broke her arm, but his father ended up having to kill him to stop him from killing Chi-Chi…" His uneven voice broke off, and he stopped to compose himself. Tears ran down Kessho's face, and Trunks wrapped his arms around her, pulling her form against his where she buried her face in his shoulder. "Shhhh," he soothed, "Please, let me finish, that's not all that you need to hear." Sniffling, she quieted herself and waited for him to continue.

"They didn't know why he went crazy, but now, now we know." Alarmed by his tone of voice, she brought her eyes to fasten on to his. "He was the first Human/Saiyan hybrid that we know of. The basic nature of the two species conflict, most dangerously when they reach adulthood, leading to those psychotic spells. I hav-haven't had any yet, but it's only a matter of time before…" She shook her head desperately, and heaved a sob of heartfelt sorrow. She urgently drew him into a crushing hug, and he quietly joined her in his own sorrow.

He hated causing pain, especially to his family, to her. The one woman that he had ever cared for, and the best he could do in return for her undying loyalty was bring this down on her head. And soon he would have to cut himself off from her…there was no way that he would endanger her, not when he knew the consequences of such an error.

Why was it always pain? Had he ever caused anyone anything but pain? He thought back on everyone he had known, how he had hurt each one, how he soon would hurt some. But he refused to cause them physical injury. If it was the last thing he did…

It took close to an hour for her to calm down, and he only sat in silence, trying hard to soothe her with soft touches, rubbing her back, and stroking her hair. She drew her face up to his and kissed him, hands tangled in his soft hair drawing him closer. After air bacame a much-needed commodity, she drew back slightly, and he gazed at her in a slight daze, his blue stare echoing a long-borne hunger. She shook her head sowly.

"It can't be true, it can't, it isn't fair," her expression flashed almost instantly to one of supreme anger and frustration. She beat uselessly with fists against his chest, not caring who received the brunt of her anger. She had learned long ago from experience that such a futile act would not harm him, or even cause pain. He caught her hands in his, stopping her tirade.

"It's over with, Kessho, there's nothing we can do now! But I'm here for a while yet, please, let's just enjoy what time we have left. Okay?" She shook her head defiantly, again holding back tears. He gave her a firm look, "Okay?" She sniffled, and forced a decidedly unhappy smile. "'Kay."

"That's my Kessho-chan," he laid his lips on her cheek, breathing in her sweet scent. "Why don't we go get something to eat, huh? After that we could go to the beach, and stargaze or something, whatever you want to do." He smoothed the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs, and she smiled and kissed the tip of his nose before moving back to her side of the car.

Trunks started the vehicle and they drove off towards the downtown area. Kessho clasped her hand in his.

"Can I, can I ask you something?" She queried timidly.

"Shoot."

"Since I've seen you today, you haven't smiled once, not even when you seemed to be happy. Why didn't you smile?" His face fell, and he stared straight ahead. His mouth worked silently a few times before he found the right words.

"I don't know, really. I just, _can't_. Haven't been able to for a few months now. I think it might be, I think it's symptom." She brought his hand to her mouth and planted her lips on it. She grinned.

"Then I'll smile for you."

+\+\


	10. HB10

+\+\

"So you beat him up?"

"No, we didn't beat him up…just, knocked him out for a while. It's just a quick little snap to the back of the neck. My dad's done it to me, well, a lot. Usually when I was acting up, or just bugging him." Kessho giggled, loving all the more the soft twinkle in Trunks' eyes.

"And then?"

"So then we stole his costume, and joined the other fighters. Most of the time I was the upper torso, and Goten was the legs…but we did take turns. To this day I don't know how anyone even took us seriously." Trunks took another bite of his meal while Kessho calmed her laughing. She leaned over the table, speaking in a confidential tone.

"So, do you have any secret powers or anything? Or was your tail the only thing that made you different?"

"Well…I'm a lot stronger than humans, in a lot of ways. Faster, more powerful-"

"Powerful? What do you mean by _powerful_?"

"Well if you're done eating, and I'm done eating, then I can go and show you," Kessho's eyes grew wide, and her cheeks heated at the dark passion emanating from his eyes. One corner of his mouth turned up into a chilling replica of his father's smirk. Her eyes widened even more, if that was possible, and she grinned joyously, fiercely clutching his head between her hands from across the table.

"You're smirking Trunks! You're smirking! Halfway there!" He grinned.

"I am?" She squealed happily and violently dug around in her purse, bringing out a cosmetic mirror. She dropped the mirror three times in her fervor and finally held it in front of his face. His smile widened further.

Throwing more than enough cash on the table to pay for the meal, Trunks walked over to scoop the bluish-blonde into his arms and carried her out the door. Quickly encapsulating his car, he strode into an alley with the still-grinning Kessho. After ensuring that no one was looking, he took to the air, wincing at her frightened squeal. Her arms wrapped around his neck in a vice-grip. She glared at him.

"Trunks, you big dummy!" She released her grip enough to viciously bite his shoulder, and he yelped in surprise.

"You little viper! You seem to be forgetting just who's controlling this flight," he loosened his hold on her just short of releasing her completely, and she screamed again. "Trunks you bastard! I swear if you drop me you won't live to regret it!"

"I'm not gonna drop you, okay? I've had quite a bit of practice with this…I've been flying since I was like, three or something." She calmed a bit, but still continued glaring at him.

"Really?" He nodded. "Well how did you learn something like that at such a young age?"

"My dad threw me off a cliff," she gave him a 'yeah right' look. "Seriously! You know my dad; do you doubt he would do it? He always said that instinct was the best teacher, and I've had no problems with flying since then, although I did wet myself…" She snorted, and shifted so that her legs were around his hips, her face hovering just above his. His hands moved until one rested behind her back, the other supporting her rear. They drifted to a stop, simply hovering in midair, far above the glowing city.

"You still haven't told me what you meant by powerful…" Smiling, he lifted one hand. It started to glow softly, and the glow transferred itself into a ball of light levitating above his palm. "Oh Kami," she whispered, timidly reaching a hand towards the bright orb. He drew his hand back quickly.

"Not smart, hun. This thing is pure energy," he found a hair that had fallen from her head onto her shoulder and she watched interestedly as he lowered it into the ball of energy. It spontaneously combusted, there and then gone in a flash of light and flame. "Of course, your hair is a lot weaker than you are, but you get the point. He reabsorbed the energy, and she laid her hand in his.

"So warm…" she murmured quietly. "Mhmm," was his response, and he raised his energy level a fraction, heating all of his skin, although he felt no heat. "Mmm, that's nice," she murmured lethargically, laying her head in the crook of his neck. He eyed her neck hungrily, and brought one hand from her back to brush hair off the lightly tanned skin, allowing his mouth to follow the movements of his fingers. She moaned softly, sending shivers down his spine.

The sensual movements of his lips on her skin awoke her from her previous relaxed state, and she trailed her lips up his neck to his ear, whispering urgently.

"It's been so long, Trunks-chan, I need you."

+\+\

Kessho rolled over, moaning softly, still mostly asleep. Her half-conscious mind gloried in the feel of her lover's muscular arms encircling her, the feeling of his body pressed against hers, only soft sheets covering them. Now facing the half-Saiyan, she opened her eyes slowly, taking in his peaceful features, tousled lavender hair, and gorgeously chiseled body. "Oh god," she breathed, "how is it possible for you to be _so damn hot_. And so…so perfect. How could I ever ask for a better man? He doesn't exist, I tell you." Her voice broke, and a tear slid down her cheek. "But why do you have to leave me all alone?" she mouthed, unable to force a sound from her clenched throat.

Drawing in a deep breath through his nose, Trunks stirred awake. He smiled blearily at her, but his brow creased and his smile faded when he took in her emotional distress.

"Hey, what's up?" he queried, caressing her cheek softly. She laid her hand over his, finally releasing a small sob. He rolled to his back and pulled her on top of his chest as she cried, warm tears falling on his bare skin. "What's the matter, sweety?"

"I'm, god I'm so scared." His brow furrowed.

"Scared of what?"

"Of losing you, of being alone. I don't think I can survive being alone…I can hardly sleep in my own room without my dog in there with me." She barked a bitter laugh, and, unable to think of anything good to say, Trunks merely stroked her back, his mind far away solving a problem. He would not leave her alone, never, if he died trying, she would not be alone forever.

"It's okay, Kessho. I know you, you could have any man you wanted." She turned fierce eyes up at him.

"But I already have the man I want, I just don't know how much longer he'll be around." He smothered her crying with his mouth, slowing her tears as she responded to him, letting her worries slip away beneath the pressure of his kiss.

The door slid open, allowing Bra and Vegeta to enter.

"What the hell are you two doing?" Vegeta snapped, and the two drew back in shock, hurriedly checking the sheets to ensure that all bases were covered.

The young couple seemed absolutely mortified, Trunks trying to form words to chastise his father for entering his room unannounced. Nothing came, and Vegeta only sighed.

"Breakfast," the elder Saiyajin mumbled, then turned and left. Bra stayed however, and hopped onto the bed between the two. The girl's face lit up as she recognized the visitor, though she hadn't seen her since she was a toddler.

"Kessho-san! Did you and Trunks have a sleep-over?" Kessho blushed bright red.

"Yeah, kind of…"

"Bra-chan, why don't you go tell Mom that Kessho is staying for breakfast?" Grinning widely, the child scurried from the room, closing the door behind her.

"Note to self; lock the door next time a beautiful woman 'sleeps over'," Trunks murmured, rising from the mattress to get dressed. Kessho stumbled to the bathroom to scrub her face clean, afterwards joining Trunks to get clothing on. She wandered around the room a few moments, seemingly searching for something.

"Lose something?" Trunks questioned, and she nodded.

"Yeah, my shirt and my bra," she blushed, recalling their hurried entry to his room, and she only half-dressed. Trunks gazed sheepishly at the floor.

"I think they're out there, somewhere," he gestured towards the window.

"Well don't just stand there, I can't leave without a shirt on! Can't I borrow one of yours?" Digging through the drawers, Trunks pulled out a heavy, over-sized t-shirt with a CC logo imprinted where a pocket would be on a dressier shirt. He regretfully handed it to her, taking in one last eyeful of her exposed breasts before his shirt covered it. She rolled her eyes at him, but a smile quickly replaced the sarcastic gesture. She gave him a wink, trailing one hand across his chest as she led the way downstairs.

"Nice to see you two are finally up," Bulma remarked with her back to them as they entered the kitchen. They sat silently at the table to await the food. Vegeta shot a hard look at Trunks, silently telling him that 'the mom' was pissed as anything. Trunks swallowed, risking a glance in Bulma's direction. She turned towards the table, looking back and forth from Trunks to Kessho as she spoke.

"Did you two have a nice sleep-over?" She smiled sweetly, and Trunks wilted under the fakeness of her expression. He was so going to get it for this one.

"Yes," Trunks mumbled, and his mother turned her head, cupping her ear as though she hadn't heard him.

"What was that?"

"I said yes. Yes we had a nice, sleep-over." He turned bright red, and Kessho looked at anyone but the other people in the room, her cheeks the same dark color.

"Can I speak to you in the other room Trunks? Kessho, would you finish up the breakfast for me? There's only a little pancake batter left." Gaining a little back bone, Kessho gave Bulma a defiant look.

"I'm just as guilty here, Bulma-san. There's enough here for Vegeta-san and Bra to start eating…" Bulma shook her head.

"I'm afraid you don't understand the whole situation, Kessho," the older woman explained.

"Yes I do."

"Yes she does." The young couple stated at once. The very air in the room darkened and grew heavier at the mere mention of the subject. Vegeta's brow creased, and he looked dejectedly down at the table. Bra looked ready to cry, and Bulma stared at her son in disbelief. Standing slowly, Trunks grasped his mother's arm and pulled her to the next room, gesturing for Kessho to stay put when she started to follow.

A little ways down the hall, the two ducked into an unoccupied room. As soon as the door slid shut, Bulma fell apart.

"How could you drag her into this? And to start an intimate relationship so late in the game…it wasn't a smart move Trunks. She doesn't deserve this…"

"I had no choice. And the intimate relationship didn't just start. We've been involved since we were 13, if not younger."

"You've been having sex since you were 13!" She burst out.

"No! Gods, no! Only since like, last year or something. I'm not saying that it was the best path, I would have given anything just to wait, to date her normally, probably even marry her, but I don't have that kind of time on my hands, and you know it! I just wanted, I just wanted to be with her, as long as I could. And last night, she would never have let me off without an explanation for my bad mood."

"You could have lied! Said that a relative just died, or, or, something! You told her everything, didn't you? About your father, and, everything!"

"She only knows the minium to understand my situation. Can we talk about something else now? There's something I've been meaning to ask you," his expression was a mixture of emotions, impossible for Bulma to translate. His eyes turned sad again, and she grasped his hand, seating him next to her on the couch. She stroked his hair as he stared at the floor, finding words for what he wanted to convey to her.

"What is it sweetheart?" He locked his gaze with hers, and she nearly drew back from the intensity of that blue stare. Her eye color he might have, but he most definitely posessed Vegeta's eyes.

"When you were trying to find a remedy, did you find a way to prevent this, if another halfbreed was born?" She seemed taken aback, and her large blue eyes filled with tears, guilt and self-hate whispering in the depths of her gaze.

She looked away from him, unable to face her failure, the person who was suffering because of her failure. If only, if only she had checked beforehand, if she had checked Gohan, if she had done _anything_! But she hadn't, and now her son, and eventually her daughter, would pay the ultimate price.

"Mom. I need to know this, I swear I won't be upset." He pulled her into an embrace, and she went limp against his side, releasing a sob.

"Well I'm upset, dammit!" She stated forcefully, sobbing harder now.

"Please." She looked up at him, shaking her head in despair.

"Y-yes, I did. It's simple gene manipulation, any fucking cloning lab could do it. But I-I-I didn't—"

"Shhh, it's okay, this is a good thing," she stared up at him in confusion, and he continued. "After," he paused, "After I'm gone, and Bra's gone…I want you and Dad to have more kids. I don't want you to be sad forever. Move on with your lives, please. For my sake, for Bra's sake. We don't want you to live unhappily forever. Okay?" She shook her head slowly.

"Trunks…I can't. I'm too old.I went through menopause years ago…it's too late." He only shook his head, clutching her shoulders tightly.

"Just promise me. Promise me that _if you're able_, you'll have more children, please."

"I need to talk to your father first."

"That's fine, just let me know soon, okay? This is something that Bra and I both want, you can't be unhappy forever mom." She sniffled and nodded, and Trunks handed her a tissue from the end table. "Thanks," she mumbled, then dried her face and blew her nose.

"No, thank you.'

+\+\


	11. HB11

+\+\

Mother and son talked for an additional half hour before a third party entered the conversation. Trunks' growling stomach was set on interrupting the quality time, and alas, they were forced to rejoin the others, who had, for the most part, already finished eating. Kessho was still picking at her meal, and Vegeta and Bra had retreated outside for the girl's basic training.

Hearing Trunks and his mother enter the room, Kessho glanced towards them, keeping her expression carefully blank until she determined the mood everyone was in. Seeing the light faces made her smile, and she nearly laughed when Trunks made a bee-line for the pancakes, inhaling them at an almost inhuman speed. Never in her life had she seen him eat so fast, and she pondered the thought for a moment.

Of course, before he would have been careful to keep her suspicion down by eating no faster than any normal person. But now, now he was free to be himself. Be himself. She nearly recoiled from the idea, that since she was ten years old she had never really know this young man, this one who had changed her life so drastically, mostly for the better.

Consoling herself with the thought that he had only hidden a few skills, and not a whole different personality, she eyed Bulma warily, still unsure of the woman's views on current events. The older woman seemed troubled, and mumbled something about speaking with Vegeta before exiting the kitchen.

"Things went well?" she asked softly, and he paused with his mouth full to consider her question. He nodded, and finished chewing quickly so he could answer.

"As well as could be expected, I guess. We dealt with a few other issues that needed attention, but she wasn't too against the idea of 'us'." He smiled briefly then, and she returned the gesture.

+\+\

Bulma seated herself silently on the patio, watching contemplatively as her husband and daughter meditated. This was one area where Trunks had struggled, especially at her age. Nowadays he shied away from the act, claiming that his thoughts always turned too deep for his taste, and that he had better things to do with his time. Bulma knew for a fact however that when he couldn't sleep he would meditate, if only to calm his mind in preparation for sleep.

Bra didn't move a muscle, her eyes were still behind her eyelids, and her breathing was slow and calculated. Her style echoed her father's down to the finest detail, including the fine scowl set in her features. She had picked up that habit lately, and Bulma had found her once scowling at herself in the mirror, twisting her eyebrows and mouth around to get the best effect. The middle-aged woman barely contained a chuckle at the memory; how very unique her children were. Bra, at an older age, should have been practicing her most winning smile in the mirror, not her father's scowl. But, like her brother, Bra seemed to worship the ground her father walked on, and Bulma wouldn't have it any other way.

Sensing her unspoken wish to speak with him, Vegeta quietly rose from his place, careful not to disturb his meditative child. Bra seemed completely unaffected, and continued without betraying any hint that she even knew her father had moved away.

Joining her on the deck, Vegeta sensed his wife's unease and pulled her into an embrace. She closed her eyes and melted against him in response, taking strength from his gentle affection.

"What is it?" He whispered into her ear, and she kissed his throat once before pulling away enough to look him in the eye. She cast a worried glance towards Bra, and he quickly eased her concern. "She's dead to the world, you can speak." He immediately cringed at his usage of words, but she chose not to elaborate on the subject, ignoring his accidentally off-color remark.

"I spoke with Trunks, obviously. He made a request of us, one that I had to talk to you about before I promised him anything. I told him that if another human/Saiyan hybrid were to be born, I know how to genetically alter it so we wouldn't have this problem. He seemed _happy_, of all things, about it. He wanted me to promise that once he and Bra were gone, if, somehow I was able--he wanted us to have more children. He said that both he and Bra wanted this, that they didn't, didn't," her voice broke, "didn't want us to be sad forever, that we should move on. But I don't think I could ever go on without my babies," she choked out, burying her head against Vegeta's neck as sobs wracked her form. He rubbed her back, consolingly nuzzling his face to hers. He waited till her crying had slowed, and took the time to kiss each tear from her cheeks, before laying his lips on hers briefly, kissing her softly, warmly.

"I think I'd like that, if you can take it. I'll understand if you don't." She smiled sadly at him.

"I was hoping you'd say that, but, it's been three years since I went through menopause. It just isn't possible anymore."

"Nevertheless I think it is a safe promise to make." Vegeta laid his cheek against hers, breathing her scent. She settled back against him, feeling weary from lifes struggles and yet revitalized by Vegeta's soothing presence.

Bra smiled vaguely in bittersweet victory, and returned to meditating.

+\+\

Kessho stood slowly fom the table, taking the time to stretch before walking from the room. Puzzled, Trunks caught her quickly.

"Where're you going?" He questioed softly, falling into step beside her in the wide hallway. She turned to grin bemusedly at him, and gestured towards her eyes. "Just putting my contacts in."

He realized then that her eyes were their original green-blue hue. He pondered over when she had taken them out…he certainly hadn't noticed.

"I didn't know you had vision problems…"

"It was only a few years ago that we figured it out. I always used to think that that was just how everyone saw the world, until my parents and I had a long discussion over it. My vision isn't terrible, but it's enough to make you fuzzy right now."

"Stop a second, would you?" She halted her stride and turned to face him. He reached up to lay his fingertips on her temples, and she closed her eyes when he placed his thumbs on her eyelids. "Lemme try something," he murmured, and her brow creased.

Powering up somewhat, he drew the energy to his fingertips and let it slowly filter into her eyes, allowing it to sink into her flesh. She shivered, her breath drawing in short gasps for air at the feeling. Warmth engulfed her, concentrated mostly in her forehead and behind her eyes. Without interrupting the process, Trunks moved one hand to cover both eyes, letting the other slip into her garments to lay against the skin below her bellybutton. He concentrated hard, struggling to focus on what both hands were doing.

He forced his energy within her, allowing it to awaken his seed still within her from the previous night. His mind was filled with only two thoughts.

She would be able to see…

_She would not be alone… _

Slowly, the moment ended, and he gradually stemmed the flow of power he channeled into her. Removing his hands from her, she opened her eyes dazedly for a moment, before closing them again and slumping against him. He caught her easily, slipping one arm around her neck and the other behind her knees, gently picking her up. He carried Kessho to his room, and laid her on the bed. Trunks set to stroking her face, murmuring softly for her to wake up.

She stirred, and her eyes opened slowly, revealing his gently searching gaze. Quiet blue eyes stared down at her, excitement flashing in their depths as Trunks regarded her in silence.

"What-what happened?" She whispered breathlessly, still not fully recovered from the sensual overload she had sustained moments before.

"How's your vision?" He asked, and she blinked at him in wonder, realizing joyously that she could see him quite clearly without her contacts in.

"How? But—you--I don't understand. How did you correct my vision?"

"Life energy, or ki, has many healing, rejuvenating properties. That is why my father and I heal quickly, and why he hasn't aged a day past adulthood. Generally a creature with a high energy level will live longer, and doesn't have such physical disabilities as bad vision. We also don't get sick…I've _never_ had a cold." She gazed at him in understanding, and then in gratitude.

"Thank you," she whispered, and pulled his head down to hers so she could kiss him. After a moment he pulled away, tenderly laying his cheek against hers as he whispered five cryptic words that she hadn't the heart to ask about.

"I won't leave you alone."

+\+\


	12. HB12

In an attempt to develop the character of Kessho, I will write some of this chapter from her pov. Hope it helps. *cringe*

/+\+/+\

       Even after knowing him for so long, after finding out his deepest, and darkest secret, Trunks remains an enormous mystery to me. Perhaps he gets it from his father…he's always seemed to be the mysterious type. But I'm rambling.

       It was only moments ago that Trunks told me in a few short words that he wouldn't leave me alone, but I know somehow that that promise will have large impact on my life; I can only hope that it's for the better. And how he changed my eyes…the feeling during _that_ was inexplicable. The way his energy coursed through me, enveloping me…it was like making love spiritually. Just, beyond intimate.

       In those few short moments, thousands of thoughts and feelings, _his_ thoughts and feelings went through my mind, and I can't say that I liked everything I heard. Many things have disturbed me on a deeper level, I only hope that I can find a way to discuss even half of it with him.

       So much pain, and guilt, I don't think I could ever carry that heavy a burden, or even help him with it. But with knowledge comes responsibility, and I know that I now shoulder some of that load whether I like it or not. Any misgivings I may have about it are quashed under the knowledge that I am relieving him of such a thing, and perhaps it is making his life better.

       Trunks lay now on the bed beside me, his head in my lap. The television drones on to no one, I'm certainly not listening and Trunks is out cold. I hesitate to even call him my boyfriend, for I've always found the word too shallow for what we share. I know that I would marry this boy, no, this _man_ if given the time and half a chance. I haven't a doubt in the world that he feels the same. He's been with me through the hardest time of my life, and I'll be damned if I'm not there with him through the toughest spot in his.

       I can't believe it's been six years already, six since she died. My little sister, only five years old. My little Ashira…gods, I can still hardly believe it. Death has surrounded me for all these years, until now, when I feel as though I'm a part of it. I'm caught in the realization that if it weren't for her death, I would never have met Trunks, and yet I cannot be thankful for her passing, no matter what blessings came in the aftermath. Trunks was sent as an angel to get me through that time, a fellow twelve year old, in my school, where he was the most popular kid ever, I think. Even then, he seemed sad, quiet…withdrawn. Like he felt safer watching the world through glass, blocking his emotions. Or perhaps, perhaps he felt that the world was safer…

/|\|/|\  (ßflashback doo-hickey)

       "Miss Kessho Onega will be leaving us soon, to go to the states, correct Ms. Onega?" The girl nodded dumbly, only half-hearing the question. Her eyes stared straight ahead, intensely burning an invisible hole in the wall. The boy next to her watched her closely, bemusedly counting how many times she blinked per minute. So far she hadn't surpassed three in any sixty-second period.

       Kessho's mind whirled at tornado speed, her thoughts a cyclone ravaging her sanity. Why? Why? _WHY?_ The death of her sister was replayed continuously in her minds eye. The ball…the street…the car…why had she simply stood there? She should have run, run to help her—

       "Kessho. Kessho! I asked you a question young lady; I would appreciate an answer. Ignoring people is _very_ rude you know." The small blonde bristled within, but kept her face carefully smooth. She turned that focused gaze on the rotund teacher, and the elderly woman nearly drew back from that dead stare. "I…I was saying, where in the states will you be living?" The woman stuttered out.

       "In Texas, to visit some distant relatives and friends of the family." A few of the more boisterous boys snickered, calling out jibes about Japan not being good enough for her, or that perhaps her family was falling apart, and she was being sent away, plus various other outrageous ideas. Most of the class caught the mood, joining in as tears threatened in the young girl's eyes and the teacher tried without result to quiet the children. Kessho searched fruitlessly around the room for one, just _one_ non-hostile face, and her glance found prosperity in one silent boy who stared enigmatically at her. There was some heavy, sad emotion flickering in his blue gaze, which seemed to look straight through her. His bowl-cut lavender hair hung down over his forehead, casting an added shadow over his eyes.

       She pleaded to him from across the room with her eyes, begging him to make the other children stop. He looked away, and she released a strangled moan before rising from her seat to stumble in a tear-blinded course towards the door, and out. Her feet didn't betray her as she was carried swiftly outdoors, out beyond the school premises and into a city park. Finding an old haunt of hers, she crawled into a stand of bushes, completely hidden from the world as she sobbed. She sensed movement beside her, and turned to see the same purple-headed boy seated silently beside her. She yelped in surprise, one hand clutching at her chest and the other over her mouth.

       "Gods, Trunks, you scared me you stupid idiot!" She wiped her face of tears and he merely stared glumly at his feet.

       "My reputation precedes me, I see."

       "Everybody knows who you are—oh." She half-smiled, only now catching the mischievous glint in his eye. "Sorry, you just surprised me."

       "I noticed…you're drooling…" Her eyes grew wide in horror, and she self-consciously wiped her chin finding it mysteriously dry. Trunks face broke into a wicked grin, and she glared at him, slapping him once on the arm. "I'm not _either_!"

       His smile faded, though it didn't leave his eyes, and he looked thoughtfully off into nothing. 

       "Why are you here?" She questioned timidly, green eyes risking a glance at him as she wiped her wet cheeks, and their gazes locked. 

       "Because you are in pain…"

/|\|/|\

       "And now you are in pain…I'm here," Trunks, no longer asleep, but still laying with his head in my lap, turned to look up at me, an odd expression on his face. 

       "Thank you," he replied just as softly, and I leaned down to kiss his forehead. "Can we talk?" He questioned softly, and I furrowed my brow.

       "Of course…" 

       "If we…if we had been together long enough…would you have married me? Had children with me?" he sat up to look at me, and it hurt to see the tinge of fear in his blue eyes. I smiled sadly, and laid a gentle hand on his cheek.

       "I would give anything, _anything_ to have that with you. I would bear your children _now_, if it weren't for…" He placed his hand over mine, and a quiet chuckle swept past his lips. He leaned over to kiss me, and it took me a moment to respond, altogether confused by his actions. His hand drifted down to splay on my stomach, and he paused in our kiss as he concentrated on…_something_, before continuing more fiercely than before. Reluctantly, I drew back to gather sweet oxygen into my lungs, and he smiled at me.

       "That's good to hear…since you _are_ pregnant." My mouth dropped open in shock…but how? It had been months since we'd seen each other, and then just last night…and how on _earth_ would he know such a thing? I stared at him incredulously, and in dismay. But what if the child (assuming it even existed) was half-Saiyajin, like him? Simple genetics proved that it was possible, though not entirely likely. How could he have been this foolish? To place his own fate on another, one not even born yet? It was so cruel…I didn't understand…how could he ever do such a thing, and be happy about it? Surely he wasn't losing his mind already? Surely he wasn't…

       Tears welled in my eyes, one drifted forlornly down my cheek…I don't believe it, surely it's some big joke…his mischievousness coming back with a vengeance…surely it wasn't true…

       His expression changed to one of concern, and lack of understanding. He pulled me into his arms, and I stiffened, almost pulling away but unable to resist the warmth and comfort he gave me. One hand stroked my head, the other rubbing slow circles on my lower back. I sobbed once, and then again, causing him to kiss the top of my head.

       "Shhh…it's okay. I talked to my mom already, she can prevent it, it won't happen to our daughter…"

       "Daughter? How can you tell it's a she? How can you tell I'm even pregnant?" I managed, my voice breaking…I'd always wanted to have a daughter, someday.       

       "It's a she, because her enrgy signature has a feminine…_feel_ to it. And you smell…different…like my mother did when she was pregnant with my sister. Only…it's intoxicating. No wonder my dad couldn't keep his hands off of Mom…" growling, he devoured my neck with soft lips and I felt the small stir of air as he seemed to draw deeply of my scent.

       "A girl…a baby girl of our own." I sniffled, burrowing my face into the crook of his neck as he lay back on the bed with me partially on top of him. I barked a laugh. "My dad is going to _murder_ me, oh my gods." I dissolved into giggles, imagining his reaction. Well, that could wait a while. I quieted when I realized that Trunks wasn't joining me in my mirth, merely looking off into the distance, deep in thought. I watched his mouth open and shut a few times, as he searched for words.

       "I hope…I hope that I get to see her…" 

/+\+/+\

       "So you'll be back tomorrow?" Kessho smiled softly, touching Trunks cheek with her fingertips.

       "Probably…If not, Ill be sure to call you, 'kay? My dad is probably pissed as it is, abandoning him to unpacking alone…" He captured her lips in his; cutting off whatever else she might have said. Trunks' hand drifted down to her middle, stealthily getting a sense of their child. She pulled away regretfully, and turned and walked out the door to her car. Trunks waved once, and shut the door when she was out of sight.

/+\+/+\

       "I don't know…but could you just go get her?" I attempted to get Vegeta to go pick up Bra from her friends house, as it was nearing dinner time. Finally exasperated, he threw his hands into the air and stalked out. I could only roll my eyes at his back, somehow finding no pleasure in my victory. I searched through the cupboards fruitlessly for something to make for dinner, until my eyes landed on the number for take-out next to the phone. I wasn't up for cooking anyhow.

       Trunks wandered into the kitchen, quietly informing me that Kessho had returned home. He sat down at the table as I picked up the phone to order the food. Making a mental note to myself to talk to him once I was done, I placed the order.

       Ten minutes later (my family eats a lot, as you know) I sat across from him, bobbing my head about to make eye contact. He seemed…burdened…by something. Like he wanted to tell me something, but couldn't.

       "What is it, hon'?" He opened his mouth as if to speak, then snapped it shut again, shaking his head once in self-disapproval. "You can talk to me…you know you can." He shook his head again.

       "It's okay mom…nothing you need to worry about."

       "Well if it's bothering you, maybe I can hel—" In the blink of an eye he was across the table, my chair was on the floor, and I was pinned to the wall by his hand encircling my neck. His grip tightened convulsively and I gasped for air as his other hand drew back, energy forming into a glowing orb within his palm. The look in his eyes was unseeing rage, an anger that knew no ally beside hate. Tears slid out of my eyes as realization hit me.

       _It was happening._

       After so many years…so many years of waiting, praying that it wouldn't end like this, he was finally succumbing to his genetic makeup…and I was powerless to stop it. 

       "Trunks…don't…" I rasped through a narrowing airway in a voice that didn't sound my own. My words only served to anger him further, and his hand crept closer to my head, I could feel my skin begin to blister from the heat.

       "Shut up, bitch," he growled, and I squeezed my eyes shut…no longer able to bear the pain of my crushed windpipe and burning face. I could hear my hair sizzle, and waited for the end…Vegeta holding an infant Bra popped into my mind, with a preteen Trunks looking on. Goku, as naïve an adult as he had been a child, with his arm wrapped around Chi-Chi, a four year old Gohan perched on his shoulders…Gohan…would I be seeing him soon? Would he greet me in the Otherworld? Vegeta, I'm sorr—

       A deafening crash assaulted my ears, and I timidly opened my swollen eyes to see Trunks being propelled through our kitchen wall by his father. 

       I slid down the wall, and the world went black.

/+\+/+\

   _You must admit, I've been going damn easy on y'all these past chapters, no cliffies or nothing! So here's my semi-cliffhanger…don't ya love em?_

_    Alright y'all, tell me what you think of it so far! Or what you think will/should happen next! Or just tell me I suck! Cuz I don't care. You insulting my favorite story (amongst my own) won't affect me one bit, though it hasn't happened yet…_

_     Constructive criticism welcome…did I give a little deeper perspective on Kessho? I still feel like she has no personality… *cries* I don't know what else to do with her…blech! I tried not to give her the 'original character who's freaking awesome but has a depressing past' thing…just gave her a past that really could have happened to anyone, G-d forbid! Anyhow, we'll get to more of her past with Trunks later…_

_Eps II baby! Hells yes! I went and bought it. Alone. Cuz I have my license!!! YES!_


	13. HB13

/+\+/+\

Trunks put up no struggle after being slammed head-first through the steel-enforced wall, and Vegeta watched in relief as the anger slid from his son's eyes to a dazed shock.

The younger man stared blankly at his father, and tears welled in cloudy blue eyes as thoughts raced through his mind. His mouth worked soundlessly in desperation, and Vegeta's brow furrowed, his head shook back and forth, denying what he knew for so long would come true.

"I'm--I'm--I'm sorry--I didn't mean to, I tried, tried to--to--" Trunks spoke, his voice hoarse with emotion before Vegeta covered his mouth with one hand and shook his head again. His chin quivered minutely, and he squeezed his eyes shut, letting fall a tear onto the pale cheek of his son. Moving from where he was pinning Trunks, Vegeta sat up, pulling the younger along with him into a strong embrace.

The son sobbed quietly into the shirt of the father, whose heart mourned with him. Time stopped for the younger as the elder spoke softly in his ear.

"I l-love you, Trunks," Vegeta whispered fervently, and Trunks could only draw in a deep breath. Pulling away to a degree, he looked into his father's eyes, and saw pain, grief, and guilt whirling through the ebony depths.

"I love you too, Dad," the youth returned, a tiny smile touching his despairing features. In a rush he was crushed into another embrace, and he released another worn sob.

Gasping, Trunks snapped his head up, nearly hitting his father in the chin. His blue gaze focused beyond Vegeta, however, and he could only manage one word out of his emotion-choked vocal cords.

"Mom."

/+\+/+\

A bit flustered, Bra watched silently as her father turned off the vehicle with incredible speed, taking flight out of the car in one smooth motion and streaking toward the house. He had given no reason, only left her here, at the very gates of Capsule Corp, a good half mile from the living quarters. Seeing no sign of Vegeta's return, Bra abandoned the car to walk the rest of the way. Her thoughts rushed to find an explanation, but the one plausible answer that crept about in her mind she quashed, not wishing to believe that it would happen. That it _had_ happened.

The soft scuffing of sneakers on pavement assaulted the girl's ears mercilessly, and eerie silence aside from her own footsteps seemed overwhelming. That silence was abruptly broken by the muffled purr of an engine closing in behind her. She looked to her right as the car slowed to keep pace with her. The window descended, and Kessho leaned her head out, grinning sheepishly.

"Hey Bra, you wanna ride home? I forgot my purse when I left earlier." The child nodded, and hopped in, still looking puzzled.

"Is this the national holiday for forgetfulness? My dad forgot me _and_ the car back there."

"Oh?" The girl nodded enthusiastically in response, blue pigtails quivering.

"Yeah. His eyes got really big, then he said 'Oh shit!' –"

"Bra!"

"—and flew into the house real fast. I don't know why--" She half-lied, looking forlornly towards the dome looming ahead. As soon as the car stopped before the house, Bra was out of the vehicle and running to the front door. Kessho was quick to follow, and the two entered the house, quickly searching rooms. A chill breeze led them to the kitchen, where chaos awaited.

The first thing they noticed was the huge hole blown in the wall, and two crouching figures beyond it. A whimper reached their ears, drawing attention to an unconscious Bulma slumped on the floor. The smooth skin of her face was blistered and red, and her neck was turning an ugly shade of black mixed with blue. Her hair frizzed about her face where it appeared to have been melted by heat.

"Dear God…" Kessho whispered in horror, one hand over her mouth. Bra hastened past her and slid to her knees beside her mother, fretful tears marring her cheeks.

Kessho glanced briefly outside, her now-functional eyes taking in Vegeta grasping his son in a bone-crushing hug. Her already shocked mind struggled to feel more shocked, and she returned her attention to the injured woman on the floor and the frantic child at her side.

Groaning, Bulma opened slitted, swollen eyes, and drew in deep, wheezing breaths. "Bra-chan," she rasped, "where's your daddy and T-Trunks?" She stumbled over her son's name, her already damaged voice breaking.

"They're outside," Kessho offered, drawing Bulma's attention to her. "I'm going to call emergency, Bulma-san, you're not--you don't look like you're in good shape." She spoke carefully.

Bulma grinned wryly. "I'm fine, just a little crispy around the edges." Trunks and Vegeta managed to phase in beside her in time to hear her wise crack. Trunks looked wounded, and squeezed his eyes shut, turning away. Vegeta glared at his wife.

"That's _not_ funny, and you know it," he reprimanded. Bulma glared back haughtily. "It's called lightening the mood, bastard, before everyone here keels over from depression. Now get me a damn medic, would you?" Trunks seemed suddenly aware of his father's back to him.

"I'm leaving," he mentioned softly, drawing all eyes to him. "Dad, when you get a chance, come and tell me how mom's doing, 'kay?" His blue eyes appeared faded and dim. Kessho reached a hand towards him, and he recoiled as if her touch might maim.

"Trunks don't—" He shook his head fiercely at her, and turned to leave. Tears sprung anew and rolled down his face as he walked from the scene. Kessho's soft footsteps followed.

"Don't go," she pleaded, succeeding in clasping her fingers around his wrist. "Don't do this."

He half-turned towards her, a sob escaping his lips. "Please, let me go!" He pleaded, and tore his hand from her grasp, taking flight in one smooth motion as her own tears wetted her cheeks. She dropped weakly to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. Somehow--she knew she wouldn't see him again.

Bra watched, shaken, as her future unfolded before her, a future she had no control over. Vegeta held his wife in his arms as they awaited medical help, his black gaze staring dejectedly after his son. Bulma clutched weakly at his shirt, salty tears running down tender skin, burning. But she didn't feel it over the pain clutching her heart.

/+\+/+\


	14. HB14

+\+\

I knew…knew that someday it would come to this. I _knew_, and yet I did nothing about it whatsoever. I allowed my own mother to be severely injured, because I was lazy and did nothing. Now more than ever I know that there is no one to blame but myself for what's happened, my mother and father were wrong, _so wrong_ to blame themselves. I sat around scratching my ass while my mother slaved away in her lab, barely sleeping and letting her relationship with my father rot. For his part, my father just added it to his list of unknown guilts and horrors that already weighed down his conscience, a heavy load that I never wished to be placed upon his shoulders.

And now Bra, and Goten, have almost no future to look forward to, only darkness. In that moment when I lunged for my mother without any control, in that moment I knew what it was to be truly terrified. And to have such a horrible fear of one's own self is even more awful. I don't think I will ever forget that feeling, but I suppose it doesn't matter now, not anymore. I won't have to live with that memory for much longer.

But there are things to be done in what time I have left. Things most important to the survival of my family, and the survival of hope. Hope seems to be a sought after but never fully obtained object for both me and my future self, destiny perhaps? I've never given true thought to destiny, but I still cannot see good stemming from this event. Of course my views are hardly objective, but could you really expect me to search for the silver lining in such a thing? It would only benefit others, but then, isn't that what I'm seeking to do now?

For the past months I've kept one capsule on me at _all_, and I mean _all_ times. It contains two things…one that I added only recently. Firstly, my mother's dragon radar, which I will be putting to use immediately. And secondly, something my mom likes to call a ki catcher, an invention of hers with its own unique story.

She started out making a 'dream catcher' for my father, like those little spider-web ornaments you can get at novelty shops. Well, at least something along the same lines. She started the project in response to his recurring nightmares, which left him more than shaken up, even into the following day. Anyhow, she attatched the thing to his temple come night fall, and he slept peacefully, or so she thought. Come morning, he was comatose, and the thing was glowing with his ki. Three days later he woke up, and to this day the thing still would have been infused with his ki had my mother not destroyed it. She tried a few more times, thinking that perhaps the first one had just been miswired. Not so. Turns out the thing was actually drawing his energy in, leaving him so weak that he fell into a deep sleep to make up for the lack of energy. She shelfed the project, and eventually he must have quieted his inner demons a bit, because my mother never spoke of it again. It would serve a much different purpose now.

I let all troubling thoughts drift away, focusing my mind on the feeling of flight, to this day I am still absolutely enthralled by the experience. I close my eyes and let the cool air caress my moving body, occasionally the air turned warm as I passed through a thermal. Opening my eyes again, I lethargically looked for a nice spot in which to reside for the next few days, and settle on a small clearing on a hillside with a small stream running around one side. Perfect. Setting down softly, I took in my surroundings from this new angle. Varous pine and oak trees surround the area in a seclusive curtain, and pine needles form a soft groundcover that is quiet to walk upon. I taste the stream, finding it refreshingly crisp and clean, and also very cold.

Seating myself on a nearby rock, I force myself to contemplate what to do next. I suppose gathering the dragonballs is in order, before I can get onto other matters.

Attaching the ki catcher to my wrist, I turn it on for a few short moments, and feel my energy immediately begin to drain. My vision blurs, and I quickly disengage the tiny machine before I pass out. Leaving it in my clearing, I take off, grateful that I can still sense the tiny beacon of energy as I gain altitude. Pulling the dragon radar back out, I let it take its census of the surrounding area, directing me south-west towards the ocean. Freaking outstanding, figures the first one would be there. Gathering air into my lungs, I dive in, glad for the new edition of the dragon radar, the one that's waterproof to two miles down. Holding my breath proves to be no problem, though finidng the ball is. With a start I realize that the ball is--_moving_. Gods, please don't let this thing be in--the radar leads me to a large fish, obviously not feeling well.

Damn.This is really, _really_ _not_ my day.

+\+\

It's been nearly a week since Trunks left, and the mood has been melancholy to say the least. My dad has been informed of the situation more or less, and the Briefs have invited me to stay with them until things have reached some form of a conclusion. Vegeta has gone to see Trunks on a few occasions, and reports that while he's still depressed, he's alive and well. The dragon (which Bulma told me about) was summoned at one point, and Mrs. Briefs looks ten years younger. Well, she appears to be the same age as her husband, who still appears to be not a day over thirty.

In short, neither one looks old enough to be Trunks' parent.

I know…know that I need to tell them about my pregnancy, and very soon. I've put it off so long, too long. Gods, has it only been a week? It feels like years. Sometimes, I dream about him returning home, claiming that he's fully cured, and we live our lives together, raising the baby and living happily. Other times he comes back with the same claim, only to go insane and slaughter all of us. Those are the dreams that make me afraid to sleep, that leave me in a cold sweat and wishing mightily that I was in his arms.

His words come back to me, like sweet honey, a devoted promise. "_I won't leave you alone."_ I shuddered involuntarily, finally understanding the full meaning of those words. Oh Trunks, I had so hoped you meant that you would stay with me always, but now I see your promise is fulfilled in our child, for surely she'll be with me. Tears rise unbidden in my throat, and I squeeze my eyes shut to hold them off.

Sometimes, I dream that he comes back to say goodbye, and somehow it's the worst dream of them all.

+\+\


	15. HB15

+\+\

_Is it any wonder why I'm scared,  
If I was a little younger would I care,  
Feeling like the walls are growing stronger,  
I don't know if this cage can hold me any longer_

He was…detached. A few safe miles out of town, he watched himself from within as his body took out withheld frustrations on the surrounding scenery. He pushed to gain control, an invisible wall keeping him from getting out, from altering a single movement or action. The part of his consciousness that was _him_ pushed the wall, and felt it give, a whirling mass of fury and grief pouring into him from the hole he had inadvertently created.

He felt trapped, a horrible feeling of being nothing but a few thoughts floating about in a body that did not submit to him. He knew inside he was screaming, and yet the outside was affected not at all. He watched his own hands demolishing the forest, causing great gaping holes to form in the dry ground. Animals fled from his wrath, and those not fast enough were ruthlessly slaughtered, dying bloody deaths and spattering blood on his face and hair, staining his clothes.

_You never dreamed you'd have to live your life so guarded,  
Cause they'll find a way to make you feel discarded_

His confined mind mourned the loss of life, screaming signals at his body to stop. To stop destroying without reason. Trunks' lean form paused for a moment, allowing silence to fall on the new clearing. His head snapped towards a rustle, a tiny whimper from behind bushes to his left. Turning slowly, he stalked closer to the shrub, and thrust a hand within, grasping the shirt of a tiny boy. The child screeched, writhing and clawing at his hand, tears leaking down his dirt-encrusted cheeks.

_I'm not afraid of tomorrow,  
I'm only scared of myself _

Abruptly there was another standing behind the child, and one behind Trunks as well. His mind sighed in relief even as his mouth turned into a snarl, a near-inaudible growl emanating from his throat. Two arms came under his own and hooked behind his neck before he could react, and another pair of arms grasped the boy and pulled him away, his shirt tearing off in Trunks unyielding grip.

"Get out of here," Goten murmured to the boy, placing him none-too gently on the ground and giving him a soft shove towards the woods. Vegeta tightened his hold on his son's twisting form, motioning with his head for Goten to come closer.

There was profound pity and sadness in the other halfling's eyes, eyes that were taking in his own future. He watched his best friend writhe about, kicking at his own father for release after nearly killing a small child. No, this was not his best friend. Trunks was within, he knew, buried inside and gasping for freedom.

"Hit him," Vegeta grunted impatiently, and Goten moved forward quickly, fist lashing out to connect with the other's jaw, a jarring blow that turned his head to the side, lavender hair flinging in his eyes.

_Feels like my insides are on fire, _

_And I'm looking through the eyes of someone else _

Immense pain built within, and his muscles totally relaxed, trying to relieve the burning in his nervous system. He gasped for air, as though he had been holding in his breath, and his struggles ceased, signaling to Vegeta that he was fine again. The support of his father's arms disappeared, and Trunks fell forward to hands and knees to await the end to the pain. He drew in a shuddering breath, fingers clawing uselessly in the dirt.

"Please--end it--it's never, _hurt_ like this before—it--" Trunks gasped out, tears of pain making their way unbidden down his face and transforming into drops of mud beneath him. His hands moved from the dirt to clutching his stomach as a stabbing sensation made itself known in his gut. He clenched his jaw, keeping a cry within his throat, his ears deaf to the low moan that he emitted. Goten turned away, unable to bear the sight.

Vegeta felt utterly useless, the feeling gnawing at his insides. Moving silently, he knelt beside Trunks' huddled form, calmly stroking his back as he had observed his wife do numerous times over the years. A small twitching of the muscles in his son's back was the only sign that Trunks even knew his father was there.

_I never thought they'd want me to go even faster,  
Never thought I took my foot off the gas,_

The younger man shuddered, seeming to draw in on himself. Vegeta cast his eyes up to Goten, catching the youths gaze. "Go tell Bulma to wait for us in the medical bay, then take Bra someplace else, keep her busy," he grated, then turned his attention back to his son, who groaned again. Gathering Trunks into his arms, he took off only moments after Goten's quick departure, following as quickly as possible without causing more injury to his son. A worried frown creased his face as the youth seemed to be unconscious, his breathing heavy but shallow. Discomfort etched it's way onto his face as he felt Trunks' temperature slowly rising, beads of sweat forming on his skin.

It seemed an eternity, but the beige domes of Capsule Corporation came into sight where Vegeta landed hastily outside the one which he knew housed the medical bay. Feeling about for various evergy signatures as he jogged inside, he took note of Bulma already within, along with Kessho. Pristine white hallways and swift but silent doors took him quickly to his wife. His eyes were only for the medical bed in the middle of the room, where he smoothly deposited Trunks and backed away, quashing his worry.

_Everybody loves to be in on the pressure,  
But I know they're all waiting for the crash_

The blue-haired woman closed in quickly, checking her son's pulse and breathing, giving swift orders to a young nurse before rounding on her husband with questions.

"What happened?"

"I don't know, after he came back to himself he fell down, and said that it hurt. That _it_ had never hurt like this before. He asked--asked me to kill him, to take away the pain." Her eyes were wide with shock, but she refused to let her surprise slow her actions.

Blue eyes, bloodshot and glazed with pain opened to stare at the ceiling, something in his mind whispered that this was not outside, that he had been moved. Momentarily his thoughts were consumed with the difficult task of breathing, of keeping the flow of air to his lungs constant. Fierce pain bubbled up with each intake, and he resisted the urge to hold his breath. He felt as though his stomach was being tied into a knot and his muscles were leaking through his skin. He felt touches against his skin, each one carrying weight near that of a blow. Using muscles that resisted his control, he moved his head to look around the room, trying mightily to ignore the pain that shot through his neck and skull.

His father was there, and his mother rushed about, her lips moving in unheard words, mute over the blood pounding in his ears. A blonde woman--Kessho, rushed to his side, kneeling until her face was level with his. Her mouth moved also, and he longed to hear. He knew that somehow, perhaps, her words would bring comfort, yet he couldn't make out a sound. Her hand moved towards his face, his forehead, stroking sweaty hair from his skin. She carressed his cheek, and he closed his eyes, soothed by the gentility of her touches, by physical contact that _didn't_ hurt.

_You never dreamed you'd have to live your life so guarded,  
Cause they'll find a way to make you feel discarded,_

He felt a prickle of sensation in his arm, the one which seemed eternally bruised. He moved to stare as his mother withdrew the needle, dabbing at the drop of blood that came from the tiny wound. Some chemical, morphine he assumed, flowed through his system, and he heaved a sigh of relief as the pain was dulled to a throbbing ache over a few minutes time. His mouth worked, bringing moisture back to the orifice and allowing him to speak.

"Kessho," he managed, and she choked back a sob, softly burying her face in the crook of his neck. Hot tears flowed over his skin, and he carefully reached to rub her back. He put the pain from his mind and focused on those surrounding him. The worried faces of his parents confronted him, and he closed his eyes, immensely weary. Having asked if it was alright, Kessho climbed up next to him on the bed, softly stroking his chest and face, whispering calming words that lulled him to sleep.

_Things have changed you've become a complication,  
Can't make it through another days humiliation_

He wasn't sure how long it had been, but it had been long enough. The pain had returned with a vengeance, as though making up for time lost to the morphine. His eyes snapped open as soon as consciousness returned, and his back arched as he writhed in agony. Kessho awoke with a start, clinging to the bed for a hold as she was nearly thrown to the floor. She moved away quickly, watching helplessly as Trunks struggled.

Bulma was quick to take action, motioning for Vegeta to hold Trunks still as she administered a sedative. It took effect almost immediately, his struggling form slowing until his eyes closed and he fell into unconsciousness.

With effort Kessho tore her eyes away from Trunks' prone form. "What's happening to him?" She murmured, and Bulma heard, heaving a heavy sigh before answering.

"When we first found out about his condition, I tried everything to rid him of it." She pulled up his shirt sleeve, exposing a dark bruise. "It's from my 'experiments', it's been there for years. I tried something involving self control, hoping that he'd be able to control what was happening when it happened. But I believe it just makes him aware of it. Gohan never had any recollection of his actions, but Trunks does. And I think that he struggles so hard to stop himself that his mind can't take it. And since there are no nerves in the brain, it spreads the pain elsewhere, I don't know what to do about it."

She sat heavily in a chair and put her face into her hands, shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. Another wave of guilt and shame washed through her, she hadn't helped him at all. Only caused her child more pain. She didn't acknowledge the firm hand on her back, rubbing small circles. Vegeta stroked her hair, lifting her face with a hand under her chin. She sniffled, meeting his eyes only momentarily before bringing her head to his shoulder, allowing his arms to encircle her in comfort.

Hours passed slowly, with Trunks remaining unconscious, though he stirred occasionally. Bra drifted in and out, and Goten eventually went home, giving the excuse that his mother would be worried.

+\+\

Light was the first thing I noticed, as consciousness was slowly regained. Light, and a lack of pain. Maybe it was over. Maybe I was dead…that wouldn't be too bad. I knew it would come to this anyhow.

My eyes opened slowly. I must not be dead, unless I took Kessho with me. She's peering worriedly into my face, eyes puffy and red. Giving her a small nod, her worry changes to relief, she moves back a little as I sit up. My head reacts violently, a harsh throbbing making itself known within my skull. The world spins momentarily, and had I not been sitting down I would have fallen. Two sofas have been moved into the med bay, making me wonder how long we'd been here. Mom and Dad are curled up on one, my father snoring quietly with mom drooling on his shirt. He'll be thirlled by that when he wakes up. Bra is stretched out on the other couch, also drooling. Without thought I wipe at my own chin, finding it blessedly dry. Must be a woman thing. Thank heavens it's not a family thing. But maybe,I wonder if I snore…

Kessho smiles softly at my parents. "You sound just like your father when you sleep." Damn…

"Oh?" I reply, not entirely interested. Who in their right mind wants to hear about their bad sleeping habits? I cringe inwardly at my own phrasing, who in their right mind. Oh well. A rush of anger and bitterness assaults my subconscious. No, no, not now! My mental voice is wasehd away in the torrent of hate and anguish that floods my mind.

A hand that I do not control whips out, closing around Kessho's mouth to silence her. She moans loudly as she can, but it cannot be heard over the hum of machinery in the room. Dad doesn't even twitch. No, no no. It can't happen like this. Not now, not Kessho. I beat uselessly at the invisible shield keeping me from controlling my own actions. Oh gods! Dad, please wake up. Please, please--but I can't even get a telepathic message out.

Kessho groans more frantically, beating harmlessly at my arm, side, leg, anything within reach. I turn her slowly around, pushing her roughly back onto the bed without releasing my hold on her mouth. One hand snakes up her shirt to caress her stomach. My head lowers to lavish rough kisses on her neck. She squirms, tears running from her eyes.

It can't be like this. No. Focusing my mental energy as though it were ki, I dig into that wall, pouring all of my desperation into it, praying to get through. It starts to give, and those raging emotions pour into my mind. I push harder, feeling somehow a crack form, and another, until I'm through. All movement of my body stops, and I pull violently away. Kessho releases a gasping sob, one hand covering her mouth. I can feel the madness creeping in, on the verge of taking over again. I give her one desperate look, feeling my heart clench when she refuses to meet my eyes. "Vegeta," she calls hoarsely, waking my father with a start. Seeing my upright shaking form, he leaps to his feet, dislodging my mother. She snorts and wakes up in time to fall off the couch.

Utilizing a supreme effort of will, I quash the predator raging for freedom in my head, and try to still my bodies quaking. Returning to Kessho, I reach towards her, quashing tears when she pulls back slightly.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, "I'm so sorry." Nodding, she accepts my embrace, pulling me into her as thightly as she can. "I love you, and I love her," I lay my hand softly on her belly. "Please tell her?" Nodding vehemently, our lips meet in a frenzied kiss. Gods, how I'll miss her, miss this. There will never be one to replace her, I know. I pull away, attempting to dislodge her from me. "No, no! Trunks, don't--" she pleads quietly. Placing one last kiss on her forehead, I move away, turning to my little sister, who is now awake also.

+\+\

Trunks hoisted Bra into his arms. She looked deeply into his eyes, glistening blue staring with sad understanding into her brother's equally sad eyes.

"When the day comes, you take the path you know is right, huh? I know you're strong like that, Bra-chan. Live. I love you," he hugged her close, feeling her small form shake from sobs. "Shhh," he rubbed her back for a moment, and kissed the top of her head. Setting her gently on the floor, she moved to cling to their father's leg. Vegeta laid a hand on her head and watched silently as his son edged towards Bulma, who had caught the mood, and knew more or less what her son was doing. And she wasn't happy about it.

Trunks moved to hug her also, and she stopped him with a hand on his chest.

"I don't think so, bud. I know what you're up to, and I won't allow it." Her harsh, no nonsense façade was failing, however, and she knew it. Tears gleamed unshed in her blue eyes, an untold anguish from blaming herself for to many things. Trunks again attempted to hug her.

"Please don't make it harder than it is, mom. You know I wouldn't--leave, if it wasn't needed. I refuse to stand by and watch myself hurt you guys." He pulled back from her, and now she was crying also.

Exchanging a final hug with his father, Trunks was quick to thank him, thank him for all he had done, for being a good father. He knew of the older mans' feelings of inadequacy he'd always seemed to have concerning his children.

_Is it any wonder why the answer keeps me petrified ,  
Is it any wonder why I'm scared..._

Casting a pained smile over his shoulder, he quickly left the house before his determination failed him. He sprung into the air, cringing when he heard the door open again behind him.

"Oh god, Trunks, my boy! My baby boy!" Bulma cried hysterically, collapsing into Vegeta's arms a sobbing heap. She watched as he disappeared from sight, her cries only growing more desperate and broken.

"My baby, my Trunks," she murmured against Vegeta's chest. Vegeta looked up as Kessho came up beside them, her lavender gaze locking with his. For a moment her eyes flared golden, the intensity of the light almost too much for him to keep his eyes open through, and then faded again to purple, and his face fell. Somehow her eyes mirrored the actions of Trunks ki, transforming to the gold of Super Saiyan before dimming. He searched futilely for his son's energy signature…knowing there would be none.

He was gone.

+\+\


	16. HB16

So sorry you guys, here's the epilogue at last!

/+\+/+\

       A cool wind blew. It sifted through deep forest and city alike, relieving the sweat-soaked individuals that it touched. People sighed as it passed, chimes tinkling softly, curtains ruffling in various homes. It blew across the form of a young girl, practicing a martial arts form in her yard, eyes closed. The breeze brought a tiny smile to her lips, bringing some small comfort from the heat, despite the fact that she had already moved beneath a weeping willow to avoid the heat. 

       Taking another step in her kata, she shifted two paces to the side, avoiding her father, meditating beside the thick trunk of the tree. Her eyes remained closed, allowing her sense of hearing and smell, as well as her sense of ki to alert her to obstacles that might hinder her training. She heard the man near her feet give a snort, half cough, his nose wrinkled in disgust. She could almost see the furrowed brow and downcast mouth as he scowled.

       "Great gods, you reek girl," he noted, shifting a foot to one side as though he was attempting to escape the smell. She retained her concentration throughout his disruption, finishing the kata neatly. Finally she opened her eyes, to see the dark eyes of her father staring pointedly towards the house. She followed his gaze to a woman heavy with child, edging her way down the three stairs from the deck to the yard, three glasses of some cold drink in her hands. A low growl echoed from her father's throat. The woman neared, and glared at the girl's already-glaring father.

       "I'm fine Vegeta, I'm not going to melt. You'd think he'd never seen me pregnant before," Bulma remarked, aiming the last remark at their daughter, who nodded. No matter that it was _Bra's _first time seeing her mother pregnant. 

       Ignoring her comment, Vegeta took a glass from her, downing the liquid hastily. Bra followed suit, while Bulma seated herself slowly on the ground, using her husband's forearm for support, much to his chagrin. Giving him a cheeky grin, she sipped at her own drink, relaxing back against the tree trunk. 

       "It's really not that hot out here," she noted, "Maybe you could work with Hiso a little when she and Kessho arrive." 

       "That girl needs more than work," Vegeta growled, "she's one of the most ungainly seven year olds I've ever seen..."

       "And just how many have you seen?" Bulma prompted, eyebrows hiked in curiosity.

       "Enough to know that her training should have started earlier. She's a mess, and so...bouncy."

       "Maybe if you gave her something a little more strenuous to do that will wear her out for us. I don't expect Kessho and Hiro to pick her up early."

       "Whatever. You, back in the house. I'm not rushing you to the emergency room for heat exhaustion." She didn't move an inch, determinedly withholding a grin when a muscle in Vegeta's jaw began to twitch with ire. 

       The sound of a car engine pulling into the drive directed their attention to a small hover car. It stopped and turned off, and a woman with dirty blond hair climbed out, slamming the door shut behind her. A tiny girl appeared from the other side, her pale lavender hair up in pigtails. Rushing to join her mother, she reached up to clasp Kessho's hand, her gait jerky and excited. 

       "Grandma!" She cried happily as they neared, breaking her hold on her mother to run to the blue-haired woman who appeared little older than her own mother. Bulma felt a grin steal across her face as she embraced the little girl. All too quickly the child squirmed out of her grip to attach herself to Vegeta's leg. "Grandpa!" she crowed, earning a scowl from the owner of the leg. 

       Kessho stood a few feet away, observing the scene with a smile. "How are you, Bra?" she questioned of the one person who had not yet been attacked.

I feel so alone  
Again  
I know that I need you   
To help me make it through the night  
  


       "I'm good, thanks," Bra returned, a small smile on her face. She excused herself and went inside, getting herself another drink. She scowled into the glass, feeling her anger swell. She knew this was not something to be angry about, but she couldn't help feeling betrayed on her brother's behalf. To Kessho's credit, it had been seven year's since Trunks' death, but the idea of her marrying another man still felt sour to Bra. She knew, _knew_ that she couldn't expect the woman to remain alone all her days...

       But it worried her. Would she be forgotten so quickly? How could Kessho look lovingly into the face of another man, and moments later see her daughter, one that resembled her father in so many ways? How could she not be reminded of him every time? 

       Hiso wandering into the kitchen pulled her from such thoughts. Bra plastered a perfect smile on her face, and asked if the child needed anything. Receiving an answer in the negative, she allowed the child to meander back outside. The smile quickly slid from Bra's face, a frown taking its place swiftly. She pitied the child, never being able to know her father. As bad as Kessho seemed to her at the moment, she knew that the older woman would never speak badly of the childs father, especially not to Hiso herself. Bra's frown deepened. Her own memories were growing dim. Being merely six years old when he had died…yes, they were growing too dim.

And I pray   
That you believe in me  
You gave me my strength  
To face another day alone

       Troubled by the thought, Bra retreated to her room. Sitting heavily on her bed, she picked up a photograph taken seven years previous. It showed Trunks holding a six-year-old Bra, the younger grinning while the elder remained stoic. Bringing the picture close to her face, Bra picked out the small sparkle in her brother's eyes, and she knew he was smiling. Emotion tugged at her throat, but she forced it away; she had had her fill of tears since his death, more wouldn't help anything. Blinking back tears, she replaced the picture, grasping blindly behind her for her pillow, tugging it around to hug tightly to her chest. It had been months since she'd thought so long about him, and the guilt of it weighed her down. Memories that still leaned towards faded washed through her unchecked, those of a happier time, and a sadder time.

And I need you now  
My friend  
More than you know  
When will we meet again?

       She gave in to the tears, shedding the crystalline liquid for him.

/+\+/+\

       "I'll be back, don't worry," he assured. Speeding away before another word could escape the older woman's mouth, he delighted in the friction of air against his skin. He breathed deeply, recalling swiftly how it felt to have air fill his previously non-existent lungs. There was no need for such organs in Otherworld; no one there was alive. Nor was there air…how he had missed it.

       Whooping loudly, he cavorted about, leaving an at times jagged and curvy trail of ki in the sky as he sped toward Capsule Corp. One energy signature in particular drew his attention; spiking and higher than normal from the agitation its owner was feeling. 

       Bra. 

       He poured on the speed, his wide grin not so wide and slowly slipping from his face.  All too soon he sighted the huge tan domes of the CC complex. He slowed and dropped to the ground less than a mile away. Quashing his ki, he crept around, fighting the urge to run to his parents out in the yard as he circled around them. He wisped out of sight, reappearing outside Bra's window. Silently he pulled open the screen, thankful that she had left it open. He could hear soft sobs, muffled by the pillow she had hugged to her chest. He paused for a moment, taking in her changed appearance. 

       She was so much bigger, no longer the tiny child he had known. Her limbs had lengthened making her seem almost gangly. She had lean muscle, and her hair was short, no longer in pigtails. A rectangular piece of wood and glass lay beside her. Keen sight took in the picture of himself, holding a much younger Bra. His frown deepened, brow creased. 

Cause I can't let go  
Of you…

       Quietly he sat on the bed, her head snapping up in shock as she felt the shift of weight from the mattress. Her head whipped towards him, her face a mixture of shock and disbelief. Her mouth worked without sound. 

       "Trunks?" She whispered softly, her voice cracking with emotion. He nodded.

       His rear end hit the floor as a whirling mass of blue hair, lean muscle, and tears was hurled headlong into his arms. His grin returned as he joyously embraced the girl in his arms. She pulled away once to look at him, as though to reassure herself that Trunks was actually there.

       And promptly burst into tears again. She pounded on his chest with small bony fists, and he swore in confusion and pain, vainly reaching for her hands to stop her attack. 

       "Hey, Bra! What's wrong?" He finally got a hold of her fists, holding her still. She glared at him.

       "You're still dead! You're just here for a day, aren't you?" She ground out in a voice choked with anger and despair. "You got my hopes up, and you're just dragging us through the same shit again when you leave." His eyes widened with her use of language and what she was saying. 

       He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. "I knew I shouldn't have come," he murmured, his mind going wild with possibilities on how they had felt after he'd died. Would they hate him for returning? He had wanted nothing more than to ease their pain, and perhaps this was only making it worse. 

       "I'm sorry Bra…but I'm stuck here for a day. Can we make it good?" Sniffling, she nodded reluctantly, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. "I love you Trunks," she whispered. 

This world brings me down   
Tonight  
My faith keeps me alive

       "That's my girl," smiling, he kissed her forehead, "I love you too. Let's go see mom and dad, 'kay?" She looked at him curiously.

       "You mean you haven't seen them yet?" He shook his head. 

       "You needed me more, I think…" she looked into his eyes sadly, and nodded. 

       "It's been lonely since Goten went, even though it wasn't long after you…Mom and Dad always have each other, and it…it gets lonely. Sometimes I wonder why I'm waiting till I'm 18, when I could be with you…" She confided, looking hard at the floor, sniffling again. He rubbed her back comfortingly and rose off the floor, carrying her as he descended to the living area. Her head stayed nestled against his neck, her hands clasped tightly behind his head. Her body heat seeped into him…heat, another part of _life_ that he'd not felt in a long time. Everything and everyone in Otherworld was kept at the same comfortable temperature, unless you were in hell, he supposed.

       He opened the door to the back deck, and stepped slowly into the sweltering heat and sunshine. His parents were seated under a large umbrella on said deck, with another woman across from them. He squinted, Kessho? A small girl with unmistakably lavender hair ran and clapped circles around her grandfather, who was doing his best to scowl and ignore her. Trunks resisted the strong urge to drop Bra and run to the child. He coughed softly, drawing attention from those seated at the shaded table. 

       It was a good thing that Bulma was seated, because she fainted dead away. Vegeta let his stoic façade fall, eyes widening and jaw dropping. Kessho's reaction was much the same. Bra squirmed to get down, scrubbing her face off with her hands. He set her feet on the floor, feeling keenly uncomfortable with the silence. Seeing that no one else was going to break the quiet, Trunks took it upon himself, gesturing vaguely at the child that was staring at him.

       "Is…is she…mine?" He managed finally, finding it harder to speak than he had thought it would be. Bra, already comfortable with the newcomer, nodded.

       "That's Hiso. She can get a little annoying, but on the whole she's not that bad. And yes she's _yours_…since when are you so possessive?" Bra answered honestly, planting a small smile on her brother's face. "I think you shocked them, Trunks." His name echoing through the quiet seemed to bring those seated to life. Bulma, now awake, was smiling widely at him. She rose from the chair and lumbered over to him, ignoring his wide-eyed look at her middle. She hugged him fiercely, wetting his shirt with silent tears. 

       Pulling away slightly, she raised a hand to brush hair out of his face, allowing her fingers to caress his cheek as she did so. "Trunks," she whispered, smiling beautifully at him, before dissolving into more tears, her head buried in his shoulder. 

       "I'm ok Mom…I missed you too," he murmured, glancing up as his father neared. 

       "You're drowning him," Vegeta informed his wife, a twitching frown set on his face as he fought the smile that was itching to appear on his lips. He settled on a smirk and looked ready to bodily remove Bulma from his son. Ever so reluctantly she moved back, allowing her son and husband to share a much shorter, manlier embrace.  It held the same effect for Trunks, who could easily count on one hand the number of times he had received an embrace from the older man.

       He turned expectantly to Kessho, curious about her reaction to his appearance. She was staring through him, hands clasped in front of her chest. Turning his attention to her hands, Trunks saw that they were not clasped. The fingers of her right hand were fiddling with two rings on her left hand. On the third finger…

       His mind reeled at the thought of her being married, married to another. Another man was raising his child. He had tried so hard to convince himself that this was entirely possible, indeed, very likely, but no thought process, however logical, could prepare him for the reality of it. 

But I feel like I just died inside  
And I pray that you're the one  
For me…  
  


       And she wasn't staring through him, rather at a man who had approached, who was now standing behind Trunks. Trunks turned to look between the stranger and Kessho. She turned her eyes to Trunks, and collapsed back into her chair, hands covering her face as she wept. Her own harsh reality had sunk in…harder than she had thought it would have. Trunks parents had informed her of the possibility of his return for a twenty-four hour period, and she had foolishly believed that it would have little affect on her.

       They needed to talk, Trunks decided. And privately. He had no intentions of stealing her from anyone…but things could not stay as they now stood. He strode purposefully towards her, gathering her shaking form into his arms and launching them over the roof. She looked wide-eyed into his eyes, confusion painted clearly on her face. He set down on the other side of the complex, beneath a shady stand of trees near the edge of the cleared property. As soon as her feet touched earth Kessho moved away, glancing uncertainly at the father of her child.

       "I don't know what to do," she stated shakily.

You gave me my strength  
To face another day alone…

       "Is there something you need to do? You shouldn't change anything because of me."

       "But…I feel so…I've done wrong. I can't believe I was so stupid."

       "You got married to someone else," he choked out, "it's not a crime. And I…I can't blame you for it."

       "You say you can't, but you do," she replied, another tear slipping down her face. 

       Gently he reached up and wiped it away with his thumb. He couldn't stand her crying, not more, not over him.

       "I'm not worth it Kessho, I'm not worth your staying alone the rest of your life."

       "But if staying alone for a lifetime means I get to share eternity with you, how can I not? I got lonely, and he was there for me, and Hiso. And I do love him…" the last sounded almost uncertain as she refused to meet Trunks' eyes. "I love him enough to know that I don't love him enough. I can't give him all of me…and he deserves better, you know?" Trunks nodded.

       "Did you just now figure all of this out?" He questioned incredulously. She shook her head fiercely, laying one hand on his cheek, he leaned into the caress without thought, eyes closing.

       "I always had my doubts…but as I said, he said that whatever I could give would be enough. We were both foolish enough to believe that. I just…I can't…can't get over you, I guess," she finished, teary-eyed. He moved quickly, cupping her face in his hands and crushing his lips on hers. She moaned, responding hotly to his movements, one hand planted on his neck and the other circling around to touch his back. After a long moment they parted slightly and Kessho kept her forehead against his, looking cross-eyed into his blue gaze. 

And I need you now  
My friend  
More than you know  
  


       "So today is the last time…" She whispered, eyes closing tightly as if it would shut out the pain. 

       "Don't dwell on it…let's enjoy what little time we have. Speaking of which…where's Hiso?" He pondered, eyes taking on a look of excitement that she had missed dearly. A look of…hope. A twinkle in his eyes that had not existed in many years. She smiled, caressing his cheek softly.

       "Probably still over with your parents and Hiro…I'll have him go on home, this isn't his place, really. She's always asking to know about you, her usual bed time story is about you and your friends helping to save the earth." Now grinning also, Trunks clasped her hand and pulled her back towards the house, excitement seeping into his every motion. The girl was already wandering toward them from the direction of the house, her stepfather in tow. Bulma and Vegeta had known better than to interrupt the two, but Hiro's suspicions and Hiso's curiosity over the strange man had led them to search for the pair.

       They met halfway, and once they were standing close, Trunks knelt to the girl's eye level, a bittersweet smile tugging his lips upward. 

       "You look like my dad," she noted.

       "I am your dad," he stated bluntly, deciding quickly that he liked the sound of dad in reference to himself. Big blue eyes blinked at him as she processed the information he had just given her. They widened briefly, before small hands rose to take his face between her palms. He was surprised by the gesture, but it faded quickly. Surely his father had insisted on training the child.

       "Are you an angel?" She questioned finally, head cocked to the side. Now Kessho joined them near the ground, drawing her daughter's attention. Hiro edged away slightly, very much aware of the feeling of family the three shared. Suddenly he was an outsider, no matter his attachment to Kessho.

When will we meet again?  
Cause I can't let go  
Of you…

       "He won't admit it, but he's my angel," Kessho noted as Hiso was scooped into her father's arms, both grinning from ear to ear. A family indeed.

No, I can't…let…go… 

The End

/+\+/+\

       Quiet tears were shed as Trunks flew off the following afternoon, but the act contained none of the pained urgency of his previous parting. It seemed more of a goodbye for now, than a son, brother, lover, giving his life for the sake of his family.

       He faded out of sight, and those who could sense it felt for his ki to disappear from their senses, then all turned to head back inside. A flash of light and the sound of a booming engine returned their attention to the sky, where a craft was piloting down towards their location. 

       "Time machine…" Vegeta and Bra noted on the same breath when it was close enough for their sight to pick out. 

       It landed on the lawn nearby, kicking up debris before the engines shut down. The paint on the machine was chipped and faded, and dents and scratches marred the surface. Hairline cracks spidered over the dome of glass above the head of a blue haired woman. With a quiet hiss the capsule opened, and a worn and bloody Bulma clambered out. She took three steps away from the machine and collapsed, a single word escaping her lips as she passed into unconsciousness.

       "Help…"

/+\+/+\

Wow…I can't believe it's over!!! *sobs brokenly* My baby! I love this fic! *sniff* I'm going to miss it so much…well, I'd miss it way more if I wasn't already planning the sequel. Yes, that is what that last bit was about, for those of you who hadn't guessed already.

    Thank you so much to all those who reviewed, especially 

**Rae George**, who helped with some of the planning that went into this, and was there for me to brainstorm with. She is also to thank for the name of Trunks and Kessho's daughter, Hiso. Thank you sooo much!! Love you hon'!

**Saiyasith**, who read and reviewed faithfully, and even put up a link to this one on her bio for a while. Hope you enjoyed reading!!

**Hella**, who also helped me to keep writing this by always leaving a very encouraging review. And for crying at the appropriate parts…I think I seriously desensitized myself on this one. Thanks hon!

  And to all the others (can't name you all) who read and reviewed, you're the best!! 

   Look forward to the sequel once I've finished out a story or two, yeah? Yeah.   :)


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